« 


THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


of    Bodkc 


MO 


ft 


Afield  and  Afloat 


NOTHING   WAS   VISIBLE   ABOVE   THE    WATER    BUT   THE    HEAD   AND   NhCK   OF 
HORSE   AND   THE   HEADS   AND   SHOULDERS   OF   TWO   MEN. 


Charles  Scribner's  Sons 
New  York  ^^^:  1900 


Copyright,  /poo,  by 
Charles  Scribner's  Sons 


INTKODUCTION 

BY  land  or  sea;  from  old-time  mansion; 
from  far  afield  or  afloat;  from  inland  waters, 
or  the  distant  seas,  these  stories  come  to- 
gether and  form  a  company  which  will  pro- 
ceed, whether  on  wheels  or  keels,  into  that 
vast  region  marked  "  Unknown  "  on  the  maps 
of  good  and  bad  fortune. 

These  stories  wear  no  uniform,  and  al- 
though they  stand  together,  each  in  its  ap- 
pointed place,  they  have  no  common  purpose 
except  to  make  a  book.  They  are  related 
only  by  the  bonds  of  love  or  water,  for  those 
tales,  the  interest  of  which  does  not  rest  on 
the  fate  of  lovers,  deal  with  the  fortunes  of 
the  brave  folk  who  float  on  stream  or  ocean. 

For  the  moment  it  was  thought  that  ft 
might  be  well  to  give  the  book  the  title  of 
"  Love  and  Water,"  for  there  is  but  one 
story  iu  it,  and  that  a  little  one,  which  does 
not  deal  with  one  or  the  other  or  both  of 


2061S1 


vi  INTRODUCTION 

these  two  great  sources  of  romance.  But  as 
it  was  deemed  unwise  to  designate  the  tales 
by  a  title  which  might  be  construed  to  indi- 
cate diluted  affection,  this  idea  was  quickly 
set  aside. 

There  are  a  great  many  Bullers  in  this 
world,  and  perhaps  an  equal  number  of  Pod- 
ingtons,  who  find  that  while  there  is  joy 
afield  and  happiness  afloat,  it  is  dangerous  to 
forsake  a  chosen  element  and  to  do  that  which 
may  give  an  amphibious  nature  to  one's  ex- 
periences. The  two  friends  in  the  opening 
story  are  not  the  first  to  find  out  that  a  mixt- 
ure of  land  and  water  makes  mud. 

But  in  "  The  Mule-Car  "  the  happy  lovers 
care  not  whether  it  is  on  land  or  water  that 
they  sit  together  and  hold  each  other's  hands. 
Love  to  them  is  everything,  and  whether  it 
be  tossing  wave  or  ragged  rocks  of  which  the 
world  around  them  is  composed,  they  care 
not.  Their  Cupid  bears  no  bow,  but  he  wears 
upon  his  neck  a  tinkling  bell. 

It  is  to  the  troublous  storms  which  of  late 
have  swept  the  Spanish  main  that  a  Gover- 
nor-General of  an  eastern  isle,  a  Spanish 
captain,  and  a  Yankee  skipper,  owe  their 
places  in  this  group  of  tales.  War  is  stern 


INTRODUCTION  vii 

and  grim,  no  matter  how  we  look  at  it,  but 
on  the  edges  of  the  most  dreadful  precipice 
fair  vines  and  blossoms  often  grow,  and  we 
are  lucky  if  we  can  pick  the  flowers  without 
tumbling  into  the  deep  ravine. 

The  holiday  story  belongs  to  the  land. 
Although  Christmas  comes  to  those  who  sail 
upon  the  seas,  and  the  New  Year  begins 
upon  the  ocean  on  the  first  of  January,  as  it 
does  on  mountain  or  on  plain,  Santa  Glaus 
was  never  known  to  come  sliding  down  a 
mast,  nor  is  it  likely  that  the  ISTew  Year  was 
ever  asked  to  come  in  through  an  open  hatch- 
way. The  true  Christmas  revel  demands  the 
warm  hearthstone  and  the  sheltering  roof. 

So,  too,  the  ghost;  the  great  staircase  and 
the  lofty  halls  of  the  olden  times  best  please 
his  fancy,  and  although  the  spirit  of  a  de- 
parted mariner  might  appear  on  quarter-deck, 
in  cabin,  or  even  at  the  wheel,  it  would,  most 
likely,  present  a  dim  and  watery  aspect. 
The  true  ghost,  though  of  no  weight  what- 
ever, demands  solid  ground  to  tread  upon, 
whether  said  ground  be  tradition  or  old  oaken 
floors. 

The  boomerang  does  not  always  hit  its 
mark,  and  it  often  fails  to  come  back  again 


viii  INTRODUCTION 

in  the  manner  and  direction  which  was  ex- 
pected of  it,  but  to  the  onlooker  a  devious 
course  and  unexpected  deflections  may  be 
more  interesting  than  a  commonplace  flight 
direct  to  its  object,  and  an  ordinary  return  to 
the  hands  of  the  hurler. 

A  well-tied  "  sailor's  knot "  has  nothing 
Gordian  about  it.  It  may  appear  difficult, 
or  even  impossible,  to  untie  it,  but,  if  one 
knows  how  to  give  it  the  proper  pull,  the 
thing  is  done  ;  the  knot  disappears.  Thus  it 
is  in  the  story  in  which  Captain  Brower  ties 
a  knot  which  it  would  appear  no  man  could 
loose;  yet,  in  spite  of  all  this  subtle  inge- 
nuity, old  Captain  Lopper  finds  a  hidden  end 
of  a  rope,  and,  although  it  may  be  said  that 
he  uses  his  teeth,  the  knot  was  pulled  apart 
and  Love's  restrictions  fell  away. 

Love  has  nothing  to  do  with  "  The  Ghosts 
in  My  Tower,"  and  there  is  no  water  in  the 
story.  Like  the  tower,  this  little  tale  stands 
up  alone;  as  for  the  ghost,  he  hated  water, 
and,  as  far  as  was  possible,  avoided  contact 
with  the  land.  Thus,  although  steadfastly 
keeping  its  place  in  the  line,  this  story  is  not 
unlike  an  unarmed  Esquimo  marching  into 
China  with  the  International  marines. 


INTRODUCTION  ix 

"  The  Landsman's  Tale "  came  into  ex- 
istence in  a  fashion  somewhat  odd.  It  was 
first  told  to  a  company  of  salt-wrinkled  Cape 
Cod  captains,  all  with  memories  laden  with 
wild  doings  of  the  winds  and  waves,  and  rocks 
were  never  so  hard  and  stern  as  were  the 
countenances  of  these  old  mariners,  while 
listening  to  the  tale  the  landsman  told.  But 
not  one  word  was  heard  in  deprecation.  If 
a  traveller  from  afar  had  told  them  that  he 
had  seen  a  turtle  of  Galapagos  playing  upon 
a  violoncello,  they  would  have  regarded  him 
with  the  same  silent,  stony  stare  with  which 
they  gazed  upon  the  landsman  who  presumed 
to  tell  a  story  of  the  sea. 

"With  the  rippling  of  water;  the  rumbling 
of  wheels;  the  tinkling  of  a  bell;  the  boom- 
ing of  cannon;  the  silent  footsteps  of  ghosts; 
the  crash  of  timbers,  and  the  roar  of  a  hurri- 
cane, these  stories  now  go  on,  and  good  luck 
go  with  them. 


CONTENTS 

Page 

The  Butter- Podington  Compact  .  i 
The  Romance  of  a  Mule-Car  .  .  37 
The  Governor- General  .  ...  65 

Old  Applejoy's  Ghost 707 

Struck  by  a  Boomerang  .  .  .  -139 
The  Shipper  and  El  Capitan  .  .  207 

Come  In,  New  Year! 255 

A  Sailor  s  Knot 277 

The  Great  Staircase  at  Landover 
Hall 

The  Ghosts  in  My  Tower  .    . 
The  Landsman's  Tale     ... 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS 

'Nothing  was  -visible  above  the  water  but 
the  bead  and  neck  of  a  horse  and  the 
heads  and  shoulders  of  two  men  .  Frontispiece 

Facing 
page 

"Good!"  said  he;  "it  is  a  compact"    .        6 

The  wagon  continued  to  go  backward,  de- 
spite the  efforts  of  the  agitated  horse 
to  find  a  footing  on  the  crumbling 
edge  of  the  bank 12 

"Don't  try  to  stand  up;  hold  on  to  the 
boom  and  creep  forward.  Steady  now, 
or  you'll  be  overboard  " 30 

"  'Bring  me  my  glass,'  cried  Senor  Pro- 
Centura,  rising  hastily" 70 

"  'At  war  with  my  mother-land!'  he  ex- 
claimed"   74 


xiv  LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS 

Facing 

page 

"  Crashed  through  her  sides  and  ran  for 
nearly  half  its  length  into  the  vessel  "    226 

"  They  dropped  like  cats"    .....    228 

On  the  outskirts  of  the  village  we  met  a 
jolly  old  sea  captain    ......    280 

"Again  I  lifted  —  /  pulled  —  /  strained 
every  muscle,  every  sinew"  .... 


"It  was  Miss  Moulton"  ......    344 

Mr.  Marcbmay  took  dinner  with  me  at 
the  inn      ..........    366 


THE   BULLER-PODINGTON 
COMPACT 


THE   BULLER-PODINGTON 
COMPACT 

"T  TELL  you,  William/'  said  Thomas  Buller 
I  to  his  friend,  Mr.  Podington,  "  I  am 
truly  sorry  about  it,  but  I  cannot  arrange  for 
it  this  year.  Now,  as  to  my  invitation — that 
is  very  different." 

"  Of  course  it  is  different,"  was  the  reply, 
"but  I  am  obliged  to  say,  as  I  said  before, 
that  I  really  cannot  accept  it." 

Remarks  similar  to  these  had  been  made  by 
Thomas  Buller  and  William  Podington  at 
least  once  a  year  for  some  five  years.  They 
were  old  friends;  they  had  been  school-boys 
together  and  had  been  associated  in  business 
since  they  were  young  men.  They  had  now 
reached  a  vigorous  middle  age;  they  were 
each  married,  and  each,  had  a  house  in  the 
country  in  which  he  resided  for  a  part  of  the 
year.  They  were  warmly  attached  to  each 
other,  and  each  was  the  best  friend  the  other 
3 


4        THE  BULLER-PODINGTON  COMPACT 

had  in  this  world.  But  during  all  these  years 
neither  of  them  had  visited  the  other  in  his 
country  home. 

The  reason  for  this  avoidance  of  each  other 
at  their  respective  rural  residences  may  be 
briefly  stated.  Mr.  Buller's  country  house 
was  situated  by  the  sea,  and  he  was  very  fond 
of  the  water.  He  had  a  good  cat-boat,  which 
he  sailed  himself  with  much  judgment  and 
skill,  and  it  was  his  greatest  pleasure  to  take 
his  friends  and  visitors  upon  little  excursions 
on  the  bay.  But  Mr.  Podington  was  des- 
perately afraid  of  the  water,  and  he  was  par- 
ticularly afraid  of  any  craft  sailed  by  an  ama- 
teur. If  his  friend  Buller  would  have  em- 
ployed a  professional  mariner,  of  years  and 
experience,  to  steer  and  manage  his  boat,  Pod- 
ington  might  have  been  willing  to  take  an 
occasional  sail;  but  as  Buller  always  insisted 
upon  sailing  his  own  boat,  and  took  it  ill  if  any 
of  his  visitors  doubted  his  ability  to  do  so  prop- 
erly, Podington  did  not  wish  to  wound  the 
self-love  of  his  friend,  and  he  did  not  wish  to 
be  drowned.  Consequently  he  could  not  bring 
himself  to  consent  to  go  to  Buller's  house  by 
the  sea. 

To  receive  his  good  friend  Buller  at  his  own 


THE  BULLER-PODINGTON  COMPACT       5 

house  in  the  beautiful  upland  region  in  which 
he  lived  would  have  been  a  great  joy  to  Mr. 
Podington;  but  Buller  could  not  be  induced 
to  visit  him.  Podington  was  very  fond  of 
horses  and  always  drove  himself,  while  Buller 
was  more  afraid  of  horses  than  he  was  of  ele- 
phants or  lions.  To  one  or  more  horses  driven 
by  a  coachman  of  years  and  experience  he  did 
not  always  object,  but  to  a  horse  driven  by 
Podington,  who  had  much  experience  and 
knowledge  regarding  mercantile  affairs,  but 
was  merely  an  amateur  horseman,  he  most  de- 
cidedly and  strongly  objected.  He  did  not 
wish  to  hurt  his  friend's  feelings  by  refusing 
to  go  out  to  drive  with  him,  but  he  would  not 
rack  his  own  nervous  system  by  accompanying 
him.  Therefore  it  was  that  he  had  not  yet 
visited  the  beautiful  upland  country  residence 
of  Mr.  Podington. 

At  last  this  state  of  things  grew  awkward. 
Mrs.  Buller  and  Mrs.  Podington,  often  with 
their  families,  visited  each  other  at  their  coun- 
try houses,  but  the  fact  that  on  these  occasions 
they  were  never  accompanied  by  their  hus- 
bands caused  more  and  more  gossip  among 
their  neighbors,  both  in  the  upland  country 
and  by  the  sea. 


6        THE  BULLER-PODINGTON  COMPACT 

One  day  in  spring  as  the  two  sat  in  their 
city  office,  where  Mr.  Podington  had  just  re- 
peated his  annual  invitation,  his  friend  replied 
to  him  thus: 

"  William,  if  I  come  to  see  you  this  sum- 
mer, will  you  visit  me?  The  thing  is  begin- 
ning to  look  a  little  ridiculous,  and  people  are 
talking  about  it." 

Mr.  Podington  put  his  hand  to  his  brow 
and  for  a  few  moments  closed  his  eyes.  In  his 
mind  he  saw  a  cat-boat  upon  its  side,  the  sails 
spread  out  over  the  water,  and  two  men,  al- 
most entirely  immersed  in  the  waves,  making 
efforts  to  reach  the  side  of  the  boat.  One  of 
these  was  getting  on  very  well — that-  was  Bul- 
ler.  The  other  seemed  about  to  sink,  his  arms 
were  waving  uselessly  in  the  air — that  was 
himself.  But  he  opened  his  eyes  and  looked 
bravely  out  of  the  window;  it  was  time  to 
conquer  all  this;  it  was  indeed  growing  ridicu- 
lous. Buller  had  been  sailing  many  years  and 
had  never  been  upset. 

"  Yes,"  said  he,  "  I  will  do  it;  I  am  ready 
any  time  you  name." 

Mr.  Buller  rose  and  stretched  out  his  hand. 
"  Good!  "  said  he.  "  It  is  a  compact!  " 

Buller' was  the  first  to  make  the  promised 


GOOD!"    SAID   HE;   "IT   IS   A  COMPACT." 


THE  BULLEK-PODINGTON  COMPACT       1 

country  visit.  He  had  not  mentioned  the  sub- 
ject of  horses  to  his  friend,  but  he  knew 
through  Mrs.  Buller  that  Podington  still  con- 
tinued to  be  his  own  driver.  She  had  in- 
formed him,  however,  that  at  present  he  was 
accustomed  to  drive  a  big  black  horse  which, 
in  her  opinion,  was  as  gentle  and  reliable  as 
these  animals  ever  became,  and  she  could  not 
imagine  how  anybody  could  be  afraid  of  him. 
So  when,  the  next  morning  after  his  arrival, 
Mr.  Buller  was  asked  by  his  host  if  he  would 
like  to  take  a  drive,  he  suppressed  a  certain 
rising  emotion  and  said  that  it  would  please 
him  very  much. 

When  the  good  black  horse  had  jogged 
along  a  pleasant  road  for  half  an  hour  Mr. 
Buller  began  to  feel  that,  perhaps,  for  all 
these  years  he  had  been  laboring  under  a  mis- 
conception. It  seemed  possible  that  there 
were  some  horses  to  which  surrounding  cir- 
cumstances in  the  shape  of  sights  and  sounds 
were  so  irrelevant  that  they  were  to  a  certain 
degree  entirely  safe,  even  when  guided  and 
controlled  by  an  amateur  hand.  As  they 
passed  a  piece  of  meadow-land,  somebody  be- 
hind a  hedge  fired  a  gun;  Mr.  Buller  was 
frightened,  but  the  horse  was  not. 


8        THE  BULLER-PODINGTON  COMPACT 

"  William,"  said  Buller,  looking  cheerfully 
around  him,  "  I  had  no  idea  that  you  lived  in 
such  a  pretty  country.  In  fact,  I  might  al- 
most call  it  beautiful.  You  have  not  any 
wide  stretch  of  water,  such  as  I  like  so  much, 
but  here  is  a  pretty  river,  those  rolling  hills 
are  very  charming,  and,  beyond,  you  have 
the  blue  of  the  mountains." 

"It  is  lovely,"  said  his  friend;  "I  never 
get  tired  of  driving  through  this  country.  Of 
course  the  sea-side  is  very  fine,  but  here  we 
have  such  a  variety  of  scenery." 

Mr.  Buller  could  not  help  thinking  that 
sometimes  the  sea-side  was  a  little  monoto- 
nous, and  that  he  had  lost  a  great  deal  of 
pleasure  by  not  varying  his  summers  by  go- 
ing up  to  spend  a  week  or  two  with  Podington. 

"  William,"  said  he,  "  how  long  have  you 
had  this  horse  ?  " 

"  About  two  years,"  said  Mr.  Podington ; 
"  before  I  got  him,  I  used  to  drive  a  pair." 

"  Heavens!  "  thought  Buller,  "  how  lucky 
I  was  not  to  come  two  years  ago !  "  And  his 
regrets  for  not  sooner  visiting  his  friend  great- 
ly decreased. 

Now  they  came  to  a  place  where  the  stream, 
by  which  the  road  ran,  had  been  dammed  for 
a  mill  and  had  widened  into  a  beautiful  pond. 


THE  BULLER-PODINGTON  COMPACT       9 

"  There  now!  "  cried  Mr.  Buller.  "  That's 
what  I  like.  William,  you  seem  to  have  every- 
thing! This  is  really  a  very  pretty  sheet  of 
water,  and  the  reflections  of  the  trees  over 
there  make  a  charming  picture;  you  can't  get 
that  at  the  sea-side,  you  know." 

Mr.  Podington  was  delighted;  his  face 
glowed;  he  was  rejoiced  at  the  pleasure  of 
his  friend.  "  I  tell  you,  Thomas,"  said  he, 
"  that- 

"  William!  "  exclaimed  Buller,  with  a  sud- 
den squirm  in  his  seat,  "  what  is  that  I  hear? 
Is  that  a  train  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  said  Mr.  Podington,  "  that  is  the 
ten-forty,  up." 

"  Does  it  come  near  here?  "  asked  Mr.  Bul- 
ler, nervously.  "  Does  it  go  over  that 
bridge  ? " 

"  Yes,"  said  Podington,  "  but  it  can't  hurt 
us,  for  our  road  goes  under  the  bridge;  we 
are  perfectly  safe;  there  is  no  risk  of  acci- 
dent." 

"  But  your  horse !  Your  horse !  "  exclaimed 
Buller,  as  the  train  came  nearer  and  nearer. 
"What  will  he  do?" 

"Do?"  said  Podington;  "he'll  do  what 
he  is  doing  now;  he  doesn't  mind  trains." 


10      TEE  BULLER-PODINGTON  COMPACT 

"  But  look  here,  William,"  exclaimed  Bul- 
ler, "  it  will  get  there  just  as  we  do;  no  horse 
could  stand  a  roaring  in  the  air  like  that!  " 

Podington  laughed.  "  He  will  not  mind 
it  in  the  least,"  said  he. 

"  Come,  come  now,"  cried  Buller.  "  Real- 
ly, I  can't  stand  this!  Just  stop  a  minute, 
William,  and  let  me  get  out.  It  sets  all  my 
nerves  quivering." 

Mr.  Podington  smiled  with  a  superior  smile. 
"  Oh,  you  needn't  get  out,"  said  he;  "  there's 
not  the  least  danger  in  the  world.  But  I  don't 
want  to  make  you  nervous,  and  I  will  turn 
around  and  drive  the  other  way." 

"  But  you  can't!  "  screamed  Buller;  "  this 
road  is  not  wide  enough,  and  that  train  is 
nearly  here.  Please  stop !  " 

The  imputation  that  the  road  was  not  wide 
enough  for  him  to  turn  in  was  too  much  for 
Mr.  Podington  to  bear.  He  was  very  proud  of 
his  ability  to  turn  a  vehicle  in  a  narrow  place. 

"Turn!"  said  he;  "that's  the  easiest 
thing  in  the  world.  See;  a  little  to  the  right, 
then  a  back,  then  a  sweep  to  the  left  and  we 
will  be  going  the  other  way."  And  instantly 
he  began  the  manoeuvre  in  which  he  was  such 
an  adept. 


THE  BULLER-PODINQTON  COMPACT     11 

"  Oh,  Thomas!  "  cried  Buller,  half  rising 
in  his  seat,  "  that  train  is  almost  here!  " 

"  And  we  are  almost —  '  Mr.  Podington 
was  about  to  say  "  turned  around,"  but  he 
stopped.  Mr.  Buller's  exclamations  had  made 
him  a  little  nervous,  and,  in  his  anxiety  to  turn 
quickly,  he  had  pulled  upon  his  horse's  bit  with 
more  energy  than  was  actually  necessary,  and 
his  nervousness  being  communicated  to  the 
horse,  that  animal  backed  with  such  extraor- 
dinary vigor,  that  the  hind  wheels  of  the 
wagon  went  over  a  bit  of  grass  by  the  road  and 
into  the  water.  The  sudden  jolt  gave  a  new 
impetus  to  Mr.  Buller's  fears. 

"  You'll  upset!  "  he  cried,  and  not  thinking 
of  what  he  was  about,  he  laid  hold  of  his 
friend's  arm.  The  horse,  startled  by  this  sud- 
den jerk  upon  his  bit,  which,  combined  with 
the  thundering  of  the  train,  now  on  the 
bridge,  made  him  think  that  something  ex- 
traordinary was  about  to  happen,  gave  a  sud- 
den and  forcible  start  backward,  so  that  not 
only  the  hind  wheels  of  the  light  wagon,  but 
the  fore  wheels  and  his  own  hind  legs  went 
into  the  water.  As  the  bank  at  this  spot  sloped 
steeply,  the  wagon  continued  to  go  backward, 
despite  the  efforts  of  the  agitated  horse  to  find 
a  footing  on  the  crumbling  edge  of  the  bank. 


12      THE  BULLER-PODINOTON  COMPACT 

"  Whoa!  "  cried  Mr.  Buller. 

"  Get  up !  "  exclaimed  Mr.  Podington,  ap- 
plying his  whip  upon  the  plunging  beast. 

But  exclamations  and  castigations  had  no 
effect  upon  the  horse.  The  original  bed  of  the 
stream  ran  close  to  the  road,  and  the  bank  was 
so  steep  and  the  earth  so  soft  that  it  was  im- 
possible for  the  horse  to  advance  or  even  main- 
tain his  footing.  Back,  back,  he  went,  until 
the  whole  equipage  was  in  the  water  and  the 
wagon  was  afloat. 

This  vehicle  was  a  road  wagon,  without  a 
top,  and  the  joints  of  its  box-body  were  tight 
enough  to  prevent  the  water  from  entering  it 
immediately;  so,  though  somewhat  deeply 
sunken,  it  rested  upon  the  water.  There  was 
a  current  in  this  part  of  the  pond  and  it  turned 
the  wagon  down-stream.  The  horse  was  now 
entirely  immersed  in  the  water,  with  the  ex- 
ception of  his  head  and  the  upper  part  of  his 
neck,  and,  unable  to  reach  the  bottom  with 
his  feet,  he  made  vigorous  efforts  to  swim. 

Mr.  Podington,  the  reins  and  the  whip  in 
his  hands,  sat  horrified  and  pale ;  the  accident 
was  so  sudden,  he  was  so  startled  and  so 
frightened,  that,  for  a  moment,  he  could  not 
speak  a  word.  Mr.  Buller,  on  the  other  hand, 


o    • 

H     < 

Q     Q 


THE  BULLER-PODINGTON  COMPACT     13 

was  now  lively  and  alert.  The  wagon  had  no 
sooner  floated  away  from  the  shore  than  he  felt 
himself  at  home.  He  was  upon  his  favorite 
element;  water  had  no  terrors  for  him.  He 
saw  that  his  friend  was  nearly  frightened  out 
of  his  wits,  and  that,  figuratively  speaking,  he 
must  step  to  the  helm  and  take  charge  of  the 
vessel.  He  stood  up  and  gazed  about  him. 

"Put  her  across  stream!"  he  shouted; 
"  she  can't  make  headway  against  this  current. 
Head  her  to  that  clump  of  trees  on  the  other 
side;  the  bank  is  lower  there,  and  we  can 
beach  her.  Move  a  little  the  other  way,  we 
must  trim  boat.  Now  then,  pull  on  your  star- 
board rein." 

Podington  obeyed,  and  the  horse  slightly 
changed  his  direction. 

"  You  see,"  said  Buller,  "  it  won't  do  to 
sail  straight  across,  because  the  current  would 
carry  us  down  and  land  us  below  that  spot." 

Mr.  Podington  said  not  a  word;  he  ex- 
pected every  moment  to  see  the  horse  sink  into 
a  watery  grave. 

"  It  isn't  so  bad  after  all,  is  it.  Podington?  " 
continued  Buller.  "  If  we  had  a  rudder  and 
a  bit  of  a  sail  it  would  be  a  great  help  to  the 
horse;  this  wagon  is  not  a  bad  boat." 


14     THE  BULLER-PODINGTON  COMPACT 

The  despairing  Podington  looked  at  "his 
feet.  "  It's  coining  in,"  he  said  in  a  husky 
voice.  "  Thomas,  the  water  is  over  my 
shoes!  " 

"  That's  so,"  said  Buller.  "  I  am  so  used 
to  water  I  didn't  notice  it.  She  leaks.  Do 
you  carry  anything  to  bail  her  out  with  ?  " 

"  Bail!  "  cried  Podington,  now  finding  his 
voice.  "  Oh,  Thomas,  we  are  sinking!  " 

"  That's  so,"  said  Buller;  "  she  leaks  like 
a  sieve." 

The  weight  of  the  running  gear  and  of  the 
two  men  was  entirely  too  much  for  the  buoy- 
ancy of  the  wagon  body.  The  water  rapidly 
rose  toward  the  top  of  its  sides. 

"  We  are  going  to  drown!  "  cried  Poding- 
ton, suddenly  rising. 

"  Lick  him!  Lick  him!  "  exclaimed  Buller. 
"  Make  him  swim  faster!  " 

"  There's  nothing  to  lick,"  cried  Poding- 
ton, vainly  lashing  at  the  water,  for  he  could 
not  reach  the  horse's  head.  The  poor  man  was 
dreadfully  frightened;  he  had  never  even 
imagined  it  possible  that  he  should  be  drowned 
in  his  own  wagon. 

"  Whoop !  "  cried  Buller,  as  the  water  rose 
over  the  sides.  "  Steady  yourself,  old  boy, 


THE  BULLER-PODINQTON  COMPACT     15 

or  you'll  go  overboard !  "  And  the  next  mo- 
ment the  wagon  body  sank  out  of  sight. 

But  it  did  not  go  down  very  far.  The  deep- 
est part  of  the  channel  of  the  stream  had  been 
passed,  and  with  a  bump  the  wheels  struck 
the  bottom. 

"  Heavens  !  "  cried  Buller,  "  we  are 
aground." 

"  Aground  !  "  exclaimed  Podington, 
"  Heaven  be  praised!  " 

As  the  two  men  stood  up  in  the  submerged 
wagon  the  water  was  above  their  knees,  and 
when  Podington  looked  out  over  the  surface 
of  the  pond,  now  so  near  his  face,  it  seemed 
like  a  sheet  of  water  he  had  never  seen  before. 
It  was  something  horrible,  threatening  to  rise 
and  envelop  him.  He  trembled  so  that  he 
could  scarcely  keep  his  footing. 

"  William,"  said  his  companion,  "  you  must 
sit  down;  if  you  don't,  you'll  tumble  over- 
board and  be  drowned.  There  is  nothing  for 
you  to  hold  to." 

"  Sit  down,"  said  Podington,  gazing  blank- 
ly at  the  water  around  him,  "  I  can't  do  that!  " 

At  this  moment  the  horse  made  a  slight 
movement.  Having  touched  bottom  after  his 
efforts  in  swimming  across  the  main  bed  of 


16      THE  BULLER-PODINOTON  COMPACT 

the  stream,  with  a  floating  wagon  in  tow,  he 
had  stood  for  a  few  moments,  his  head  and 
neck  well  above  water,  and  his  back  barely 
visible  beneath  the  surface.  Having  recov- 
ered his  breath,  he  now  thought  it  was  time  to 
move  on. 

At  the  first  step  of  the  horse  Mr.  Poding- 
ton  began  to  totter.  Instinctively  he  clutched 
Buller. 

"Sit  down!"  cried  the  latter,  "or  you'll 
have  us  both  overboard."  There  was  no  help 
for  it;  down  sat  Mr.  Podington;  and,  as  with 
a  great  splash  he  came  heavily  upon  the  seat, 
the  water  rose  to  his  waist. 

"  Ough!  "  said  he.  "  Thomas,  shout  for 
help." 

"  No  use  doing  that,"  replied  Buller,  still 
standing  on  his  nautical  legs ;  "  I  don't  see 
anybody,  and  I  don't  see  any  boat.  We'll  get 
out  all  right.  Just  you  stick  tight  to  the 
thwart." 

"  The  what?  "  feebly  asked  the  other. 

"  Oh,  the  seat,  I  mean.  We  can  get  to  the 
shore  all  right  if  you  steer  the  horse  straight. 
Head  him  more  across  the  pond." 

"  I  can't  head  him,"  cried  Podington.  "  I 
have  dropped  the  reins!  " 


THE  BULLER-PODINGTON  COMPACT     17 

"  Good  gracious ! "  cried  Mr.  Buller, 
"  that's  bad.  Can't  you  steer  him  by  shouting 
'  Gee  'and  'Haw?'" 

"No,"  said  Podington,  "he  isn't  an  ox; 
but  perhaps  I  can  stop  him."  Then  with  as 
much  voice  as  he  could  summon,  he  called 
out:  "  Whoa!  "  and  the  horse  stopped. 

"  If  you  can't  steer  him  any  other  way," 
said  Buller,  "  we  must  get  the  reins.  Lend 
me  your  whip." 

"  I  have  dropped  that  too,"  said  Poding- 
ton; "  there  it  floats." 

"  Oh,  dear,"  said  Buller,  "  I  guess  I'll  have 
to  dive  for  them;  if  he  were  to  run  away,  we 
should  be  in  an  awful  fix." 

"Don't  get  out!  Don't  get  out!"  ex- 
claimed Podington.  "  You  can  reach  over 
the  dash-board." 

"That's  under  water,"  said  Buller,  "it 
will  be  the  same  thing  as  diving;  but  it's  got 
to  be  done,  and  I'll  try  it.  Don't  you  move 
now;  I  am  more  used  to  water  than  you  are." 

Mr.  Buller  took  off  his  hat  and  asked  his 
friend  to  hold  it.  He  thought  of  his  watch 
and  other  contents  of  his  pockets,  but  there 
was  no  place  to  put  them,  so  he  gave  them  no 
more  consideration.  Then  bravely  getting  on 


18      THE  BULLER-PODINGTON  COMPACT 

his  knees  in  the  water,  he  leaned  over  the  dash- 
board, almost  disappearing  from  sight.  With 
his  disengaged  hand  Mr.  Podington  grasped 
the  submerged  coat-tails  of  his  friend. 

In  a  few  seconds  the  upper  part  of  Mr.  Bul- 
ler  rose  from  the  water.  He  was  dripping  and 
puffing,  and  Mr.  Podington  could  not  but 
think  what  a  difference  it  made  in  the  appear- 
ance of  his  friend  to  have  his  hair  plastered 
close  to  his  head. 

"  I  got  hold  of  one  of  them,"  said  the  sput- 
tering Buller,  "  but  it  was  fast  to  something 
and  I  couldn't  get  it  loose." 

"  Was  it  thick  and  wide?  "  asked  Poding- 
ton. 

"  Yes,"  was  the  answer;   "  it  did  seem  so." 

"  Oh,  that  was  a  trace,"  said  Podington ; 
"  I  don't  want  that;  the  reins  are  thinner  and 
lighter." 

"  Now  I  remember  they  are,"  said  Buller. 
"  I'll  go  down  again." 

Again  Mr.  Buller  leaned  over  the  dash- 
board, and  this  time  he  remained  down  longer, 
and  when  he  came  up  he  puffed  and  sputtered 
more  than  before. 

"  Is  this  it?  "  said  he,  holding  up  a  strip  of 
wet  leather. 


THE  BULLER-PODINQTON  COMPACT     19 

"  Yes,"  said  Podington,  "  you've  got  the 
reins." 

"  Well,  take  them,  and  steer.  I  would  have 
found  them  sooner  if  his  tail  had  not  got  into 
my  eyes.  That  long  tail's  floating  down  there 
and  spreading  itself  out  like  a  fan ;  it  tangled 
itself  all  around  my  head.  It  would  have  been 
much  easier  if  he  had  been  a  bob-tailed  horse." 

"  Now  then,"  said  Podington,  "  take  your 
hat,  Thomas,  and  I'll  try  to  drive." 

Mr.  Buller  put  on  his  hat,  which  was  the 
only  dry  thing  about  him,  and  the  nervous 
Podington  started  the  horse  so  suddenly  that 
even  the  sea-legs  of  Buller  were  surprised,  and 
he  came  very  near  going  backward  into  the 
water;  but  recovering  himself,  he  sat  down. 

"  I  don't  wonder  you  did  not  like  to  do  this, 
William,"  said  he.  "  Wet  as  I  am,  it's  ghast- 
ly!" 

Encouraged  by  his  master's  voice,  and  by 
the  feeling  of  the  familiar  hand  upon  his  bit, 
the  horse  moved  bravely  on. 

But  the  bottom  was  very  rough  and  uneven. 
Sometimes  the  wheels  struck  a  large  stone,  ter- 
rifying Mr.  Buller,  who  thought  they  were 
going  to  upset;  and  sometimes  they  sank  into 
soft  mud,  horrifying  Mr.  Podington,  who 
thought  they  were  going  to  drown. 


20      THE  BULLER-PODINOTON  COMPACT 

Thus  proceeding,  they  presented  a  strange 
sight.  At  first  Mr.  Podington  held  his  hands 
above  the  water  as  he  drove,  but  he  soon  found 
this  awkward,  and  dropped  them  to  their  usual 
position,  so  that  nothing  was  visible  above  the 
water  but  the  head  and  neck  of  a  horse  and  the 
heads  and  shoulders  of  two  men. 

Now  the  submarine  equipage  came  to  a  low 
place  in  the  bottom,  and  even  Mr.  Buller  shud- 
dered as  the  water  rose  to  his  chin.  Poding- 
ton gave  a  howl  of  horror,  and  the  horse,  with 
high,  uplifted  head,  was  obliged  to  swim.  At 
this  moment  a  boy  with  a  gun  came  strolling 
along  the  road,  and  hearing  Mr.  Podington's 
cry,  he  cast  his  eyes  over  the  water.  Instinc- 
tively he  raised  his  weapon  to  his  shoulder,  and 
then,  in  an  instant,  perceiving  that  the  objects 
he  beheld  were  not  aquatic  birds,  he  dropped 
his  gun  and  ran,  yelling,  down  the  road  to- 
ward the  mill. 

But  the  hollow  in  the  bottom  was  a  narrow 
one,  and  when  it  was  passed  the  depth  of  the 
water  gradually  decreased.  The  back  of  the 
horse  came  into  view,  the  dash-board  became 
visible,  and  the  bodies  and  the  spirits  of  the 
two  men  rapidly  rose.  Now  there  was  vigor- 
ous splashing  and  tugging,  and  then  a  jet  black 


TUE  BULLER-PODINGTON  COMPACT     21 

horse,  shining  as  if  he  had  been  newly  var- 
nished, pulled  a  dripping  wagon  containing 
two  well-soaked  men  upon  a  shelving  shore. 

"  Oh,  I  am  chilled  to  the  bone!  "  said  Pod- 
ington. 

"'  I  should  think  so,"  replied  his  friend;  "  if 
you  have  got  to  be  wet,  it  is  a  great  deal 
pleasanter  under  the  water." 

There  was  a  field-road  on  this  side  of  the 
pond  which  Podington  well  knew,  and  pro- 
ceeding along  this  they  came  to  the  bridge  and 
got  into  the  main  road. 

"  Now,  we  must  get  home  as  fast  as  we  can," 
cried  Podington,  "  or  we  shall  both  take  cold. 
I  wish  I  hadn't  lost  my  whip.  Hi  now!  Get 
along!  " 

Podington  was  now  full  of  life  and  energy, 
the  wheels  were  on  the  hard  road,  and  he  was 
himself  again. 

When  the  horse  found  his  head  turned  to- 
ward his  home,  he  set  off  at  a  great  rate. 

"  Hi  there!  "  cried  Podington.  "  I  am  so 
sorry  I  lost  my  wrhip." 

"  Whip!  "  said  Buller,  holding  fast  to  the 
side  of  the  seat;  "  surely  you  don't  want  him 
to  go  any  faster  than  this.  And  look  here, 
William,"  he  added,  "  it  seems  to  me  we  are 


22      THE  BULLER-PODINOTON  COMPACT 

much  more  likely  to  take  cold  in  our  wet 
clothes  if  we  rush  through  the  air  in  this  way. 
Really,  it  seems  to  me  the  horse  is  running 
away." 

"  Not  a  bit  of  it!  "  cried  Podington.  "  He 
wants  to  get  home,  and  he  wants  his  dinner. 
Isn't  he  a  fine  horse?  Look  how  he  steps  out!  " 

"  Steps  out!  "  exclaimed  Buller;  "  I  think 
I'd  like  to  step  out  myself.  Don't  you  think 
it  would  be  wiser  for  me  to  walk  home,  Will- 
iam? That  will  warm  me  up." 

"  It  will  take  you  an  hour,"  said  his  friend. 
"  Stay  where  you  are,  and  I'll  have  you  in  a 
dry  suit  of  clothes  in  less  than  fifteen  minutes." 

"  I  tell  you,  William,"  said  Mr.  Buller,  as 
the  two  sat  smoking  after  dinner,  "  what  you 
ought  to  do ;  you  should  never  go  out  driving 
without  a  life-preserver  and  a  pair  of  oars;  I 
always  take  them.  It  would  make  you  feel 
safer." 

Mr.  Buller  went  home  the  next  day,  be- 
cause Mr.  Podington's  clothes  did  not  fit  him, 
and  his  own  out-door  suit  was  so  shrunken  as 
to  be  uncomfortable.  Besides,  there  was  an- 
other reason,  connected  with  the  desire  of 
horses  to  reach  their  homes,  which  prompted 
his  return.  But  he  had  not  forgotten  his  com- 


THE  BULLER-PODINQTON  COMPACT     23 

pact  with  his  friend,  and  in  the  course  of  a 
week  he  wrote  to  Podington,  inviting  him  to 
spend  some  days  with  him.  Mr.  Podington 
was  a  man  of  honor,  and  in  spite  of  his  recent 
unfortunate  water  experience  he  would  not 
break  his  word.  He  went  to  Mr.  Buller's  sea- 
side home  at  the  time  appointed. 

Early  on  the  morning  after  his  arrival,  be- 
fore the  family  was  up,  Mr.  Podington  went 
out  and  strolled  down  to  the  edge  of  the  bay. 
He  went  to  look  at  Buller's  boat.  He  was  well 
aware  that  he  would  be  asked  to  take  a  sail, 
and  as  Buller  had  driven  with  him,  it  would 
be  impossible  for  him  to  decline  sailing  with 
Buller ;  but  he  must  see  the  boat.  There  was 
a  train  for  his  home  at  a  quarter  past  seven; 
if  he  were  not  on  the  premises  he  could  not  be 
asked  to  sail.  If  Buller's  boat  were  a  little, 
flimsy  thing,  he  would  take  that  train — but 
he  would  wait  and  see. 

There  was  only  one  small  boat  anchored 
near  the  beach,  and  a  man — apparently  a  fish- 
erman— informed  Mr.  Podington  that  it  be- 
longed to  Mr.  Buller.  Podington  looked  at  it 
eagerly;  it  was  not  so  very  small  and  not  flimsy. 

"  Do  you  consider  that  a  safe  boat? "  he 
asked  the  fisherman. 


24     THE  BULLER-PODINGTON  COMPACT 

"  Safe!  "  replied  the  man.  "  You  could 
not  upset  her  if  you  tried.  Look  at  her  breadth 
of  beam!  You  could  go  anywhere  in  that 
boat !  Are  you  thinking  of  buying  her?  " 

The  idea  that  he  would  think  of  buying  a 
boat  made  Mr.  Podington  laugh.  The  in- 
formation that  it  would  be  impossible  to  upset 
the  little  vessel  had  greatly  cheered  him,  and 
he  could  laugh. 

Shortly  after  breakfast  Mr.  Buller,  like  a 
nurse  with  a  dose  of  medicine,  came  to  Mr. 
Podington  with  the  expected  invitation  to  take 
a  sail. 

"  Now,  William,"  said  his  host,  "  I  under- 
stand perfectly  your  feeling  about  boats,  and 
what  I  wish  to  prove  to  you  is  that  it  is  a  feel- 
ing without  any  foundation.  I  don't  want  to 
shock  you  or  to  make  you  nervous,  so  I  am  not 
going  to  take  you  to-day  on  the  bay  in  my 
boat.  You  are  as  safe  on  the  bay  as  you  would 
be  on  land — a  little  safer,  perhaps,  under  cer- 
tain circumstances,  to  which  we  will  not  allude 
— but  still  it  is  sometimes  a  little  rough,  and 
this,  at  first,  might  cause  you  some  uneasiness, 
and  so  I  am  going  to  let  you  begin  your  edu- 
cation in  the  sailing  line  on  perfectly  smooth 
water.  About  three  miles  back  of  us  there  is 


THE  BULLER-PODINGTON  COMPACT     25 

a  very  pretty  lake  several  miles  long.  It  is 
part  of  the  canal  system  which  connects  the 
town  with  the  railroad.  I  have  sent  my  boat 
to  the  town,  and  we  can  walk  up  there  and  go 
by  the  canal  to  the  lake ;  it  is  only  about  three 
miles." 

If  he  had  to  sail  at  all,  this  kind  of  sailing 
suited  Mr.  Podington.  A  canal,  a  quiet  lake, 
and  a  boat  which  could  not  be  upset.  When 
they  reached  the  town  the  boat  was  in  the 
canal,  ready  for  them. 

"  Now,"  said  Mr.  Buller,  "  you  get  in  and 
make  yourself  comfortable.  My  idea  is  to 
hitch  on  to  a  canal-boat  and  be  towed  to  the 
lake.  The  boats  generally  start  about  this 
time  in  the  morning,  and  I  will  go  and  see 
about  it." 

Mr.  Podington,  under  the  direction  of  his 
friend,  took  a  seat  in  the  stern  of  the  sail- 
boat, and  then  he  remarked: 

"  Thomas,  have  you  a  life-preserver  on 
board?  You  know  I  am  not  used  to  any  kind 
of  vessel,  and  I  am  clumsy.  Nothing  might 
happen  to  the  boat,  but  I  might  trip  and  fall 
overboard,  and  I  can't  swim." 

"  All  right,"  said  Buller,  "  here's  a  life- 
preserver,  and  you  can  put  it  on.  I  want  you 


26      THE  BULLER-PODINGTON  COMPACT 

to  feel  perfectly  safe.  Now  I  will  go  and  see 
about  the  tow." 

But  Mr.  Buller  found  that  the  canal-boats 
would  not  start  at  their  usual  time;  the  load- 
ing of  one  of  them  was  not  finished,  and  he 
was  informed  that  he  might  have  to  wait  for 
an  hour  or  more.  This  did  not  suit  Mr.  Buller 
at  all,  and  he  did  not  hesitate  to  show  his  an- 
noyance. 

"  I  tell  you,  sir,,  what  you  can  do,"  said  one 
of  the  men  in  charge  of  the  boats;  "  if  you 
don't  want  to  wait  till  we  are  ready  to  start, 
we'll  let  you  have  a  boy  and  a  horse  to  tow 
you  up  to  the  lake.  That  won't  cost  you  much, 
and  they'll  be  back  before  we  want  'em." 

The  bargain  was  made,  and  Mr.  Buller  joy- 
fully returned  to  his  boat  with  the  intelligence 
that  they  were  not  to  wait  for  the  canal-boats. 
A  long  rope,  with  a  horse  attached  to  the  other 
end  of  it,  was  speedily  made  fast  to  the  boat, 
and  with  a  boy  at  the  head  of  the  horse,  they 
started  up  the  canal. 

"  Now  this  is  the  kind  of  sailing  I  like," 
said  Mr.  Podington.  "  If  I  lived  near  a  canal 
I  believe  I  would  buy  a  boat  and  train  my 
horse  to  tow.  I  could  have  a  long  pair  of 
rope-lines  an'd  drive  him  myself;  then  when 


THE  BULLER-PODINGTON  COMPACT     27 

the  roads  were  rough  and  bad  the  canal  would 
always  be  smooth." 

"  This  is  all  very  nice,"  replied  Mr.  Buller, 
who  sat  by  the  tiller  to  keep  the  boat  away 
from  the  bank,  "  and  I  am  glad  to  see  you  in  a 
boat  under  any  circumstances.  Do  you  know, 
"William,  that  although  I  did  not  plan  it,  there 
could  not  have  been  a  better  way  to  begin  your 
sailing  education.  Here  we  glide  along,  slow- 
ly and  gently,  with  no  possible  thought  of 
danger,  for  if  the  boat  should  suddenly  spring 
a  leak,  as  if  it  were  the  body  of  a  wagon,  all 
we  would  have  to  do  would  be  to  step  on  shore, 
and  by  the  time  you  get  to  the  end  of  the 
canal  you  will  like  this  gentle  motion  so  much 
that  you  will  be  perfectly  ready  to  begin  the 
second  stage  of  your  nautical  education." 

"  Yes,"  said  Mr.  Podington.  "  How  long 
did  you  say  this  canal  is?  " 

"  About  three  miles,"  answered  his  friend. 
"  Then  we  will  go  into  the  lock  and  in  a  few 
minutes  we  shall  be  on  the  lake." 

"  So  far  as  I  am  concerned,"  said  Mr.  Pod- 
ington, "  I  wish  the  canal  were  twelve  miles 
long.  I  cannot  imagine  anything  pleasanter 
than  this.  If  I  lived  anywhere  near  a  canal — 
a  long  canal  I  mean,  this  one  is  too  short — 
I'd " 


28      THE  BULLER-PODINGTON  COMPACT 

"  Come,  come  now,"  interrupted  Buller, 
"  don't  be  content  to  stay  in  the  primary 
school  just  because  it  is  easy.  When  we  get 
on  the  lake  I  will  show  you  that  in  a  boat,  with 
a  gentle  breeze,  such  as  we  are  likely  to  have 
to-day,  you  will  find  the  motion  quite  as  pleas- 
ing, and  ever  so  much  more  inspiriting.  I 
should  not  be  a  bit  surprised,  William,  if  after 
you  have  been  two  or  three  times  on  the  lake, 
you  will  ask  me — yes,  positively  ask  me — to 
take  you  out  on  the  bay!  " 

Mr.  Podington  smiled,  and  leaning  back- 
ward, he  looked  up  at  the  beautiful  blue  sky. 

"  You  can't  give  me  anything  better  than 
this,  Thomas,"  said  he ;  "  but  you  needn't 
think  I  am  weakening;  you  drove  with  me, 
and  I  will  sail  with  you." 

The  thought  came  into  Puller's  mind  that 
he  had  done  both  of  these  things  with  Poding- 
ton, but  he  did  not  wish  to  call  up  unpleasant 
memories,  and  said  nothing. 

About  half  a  mile  from  the  town  there  stood 
a  small  cottage  where  house-cleaning  was  go- 
ing on,  and  on  a  fence,  not  far  from  the  canal, 
there  hung  a  carpet  gayly  adorned  with  stripes 
and  spots  of  red  and  yellow. 

When  the  drowsy  tow-horse  came  abreast  of 


THE  BULLER-POD1NOTON  COMPACT     29 

the  house,  and  the  carpet  caught  his  eye,  he 
suddenly  stopped  and  gave  a  start  toward  the 
canal.  Then,  impressed  with  a  horror  of  the 
glaring  apparition,  he  gathered  himself  up, 
and  with  a  bound  dashed  along  the  tow-path. 
The  astounded  boy  gave  a  shout,  but  was 
speedily  left  behind.  The  boat  of  Mr.  Buller 
shot  forward  as  if  she  had  been  struck  by  a 
squall. 

The  terrified  horse  sped  on  as  though  a  red 
and  yellow  demon  were  after  him.  The  boat 
bounded,  and  plunged,  and  frequently  struck 
the  grassy  bank  of  the  canal,  as  if  it  would 
break  to  pieces.  Mr.  Podington  clutched  the 
boom  to  keep  himself  from  being  thrown 
out,  while  Mr.  Buller,  both  hands  upon  the 
tiller,  frantically  endeavored  to  keep  the  boat 
from  the  bank. 

"  William !  "  he  screamed,  "  he  is  running 
away  with  us!  We  shall  be  dashed  to  pieces! 
Can't  you  get  forward  and  cast  off  that  line?  " 

"  What  do  you  mean? "  cried  Podington, 
as  the  boom  gave  a  great  jerk  as  if  it  would 
break  its  fastenings  and  drag  him  overboard. 

"  I  mean  untie  the  tow-line.  We'll  be 
smashed  if  you  don't !  I  can't  leave  this  tiller. 
Don't  try  to  stand  up;  hold  on  to  the  boom 


SO      THE  BULLER-PODINGTON  COMPACT 

and  creep  forward.  Steady  now,  or  you'll  be 
overboard !  " 

Mr.  Podington  stumbled  to  the  bow  of  the 
boat,  his  efforts  greatly  impeded  by  the  big 
cork  life-preserver  tied  under  his  arms;  the 
motion  of  the  boat  was  so  violent  and  erratic 
that  he  was  obliged  to  hold  on  to  the  mast 
with  one  arm  and  to  try  to  loosen  the  knot  with 
the  other;  but  there  was  a  great  strain  on  the 
rope,  and  he  could  do  nothing  with  one  hand. 

"  Cut  it !    Cut  it !  "  cried  Mr.  Buller. 

"  I  haven't  a  knife,"  replied  Podington. 

Mr.  Buller  was  terribly  frightened;  his 
boat  was  rushing  through  the  water  as  never 
vessel  of  her  class  had  sped  since  sail-boats  were 
invented,  bumping  against  the  bank  as  if  she 
were  a  billiard-ball  rebounding  from  the  edge 
of  a  table.  He  forgot  he  was  in  a  boat;  he 
only  knew  that  for  the  first  time  in  his  life 
he  was  in  a  runaway.  He  let  go  the  tiller.  It 
was  of  no  use  to  him. 

"  William,"  he  cried,  "  let  us  jump  out  the 
next  time  we  are  near  enough  to  shore!  " 

"  Don't  do  that!  Don't  do  that!  "  replied 
Podington.  "Don't  jump  out  in  a  runaway; 
that  is  the  way  to  get  hurt.  Stick  to  your  seat, 
my  boy;  he  can't  keep  this  up  much  longer. 
He'll  lose  his  wind!" 


"DON'T  TRY   TO  STAND  UP;   HOLD  ON   TO  THE   BOOM  AND  CREEP  FORWARD. 
STEADY    NOW,  OR    YOU'LL    BE   OVERBOARD." 


THE  BULLER-PODINQTON  COMPACT     31 

Mr.  Podington  was  greatly  excited,  but  he 
was  not  frightened,  as  Buller  was.  He  had 
been  in  a  runaway  before,  and  he  could  not 
help  thinking  how  much  better  a  wagon  was 
than  a  boat  in  such  a  case. 

"  If  he  were  hitched  up  shorter,  and  I  had  a 
snaffle-bit  and  a  stout  pair  of  reins,"  thought 
he,  "  I  could  soon  bring  him  up." 

But  Mr.  Buller  was  rapidly  losing  his  wits. 
The  horse  seemed  to  be  going  faster  than 
ever,  the  boat  bumped  harder  against  the 
bank,  and  at  one  time  he  thought  they  would 
turn  over. 

Suddenly  a  thought  struck  him. 

"  William,"  he  shouted,  "  tip  that  anchor 
over  the  side!  Throw  it  in,  any  way!  " 

Mr.  Podington  looked  about  him,  and,  al- 
most under  his  feet,  saw  the  anchor.  He  did 
not  instantly  comprehend  why  Buller  wanted 
it  thrown  overboard,  but  this  was  not  a  time 
to  ask  questions.  The  difficulties  imposed  by 
the  life-preserver,  and  the  necessity  of  holding 
on  with  one  hand,  interfered  very  much  with 
his  getting  at  the  anchor  and  throwing  it  over 
the  side ;  but  at  last  he  succeeded,  and  just  as 
the  boat  threw  up  her  bow  as  if  she  were  about 
to  jump  on  shore,  the  anchor  went  out  and  its 


32      THE  BULLER-PODINGTON  COMPACT 

line  shot  after  it.  There  was  an  irregular 
trembling  of  the  boat  as  the  anchor  struggled 
along  the  bottom  of  the  canal;  then  there  was 
a  great  shock;  the  boat  ran  into  the  bank  and 
stopped;  the  tow-line  was  tightened  like  a 
guitar-string,  and  the  horse,  jerked  back  with 
great  violence,  tumbled  in  a  heap  upon  the 
ground. 

Instantly  Mr.  Podington  was  on  the  shore 
and  running  at  the  top  of  his  speed  toward  the 
horse.  The  astounded  animal  had  scarcely 
begun  to  struggle  to  his  feet  when  Podington 
rushed  upon  him,  pressed  his  head  back  to  the 
ground,  and  sat  upon  it. 

"  Hurrah!  "  he  cried,  waving  his  hat  above 
his  head.  "  Get  out,  Buller;  he  is  all  right 
now!" 

Presently  Mr.  Buller  approached,  very 
much  shaken  up. 

"  All  right  ?  "  he  said.  "  I  don't  call  a  horse 
flat  in  a  road  with  a  man  on  his  head  all  right; 
but  hold  him  down  till  we  get  him  loose  from 
my  boat.  That  is  the  thing  to  do.  William, 
cast  him  loose  from  the  boat  before  you  let 
him  up!  What  will  he  do  when  he  gets  up?  " 

"  Oh,  he'll  be  quiet  enough  when  he  gets 
up,"  said  Podington.  "  If  you've  got  a  knife 


THE  BULLER-PODINGTON  COMPACT     33 

you  can  cut  liis  traces — I  mean  that  rope 
—but  no,  you  needn't.  Here  comes  the  boy. 
We'll  settle  this  business  in  very  short  order 
now." 

When  the  horse  was  on  his  feet,  and  all 
connection  between  the  animal  and  the  boat 
had  been  severed,  Mr.  Podington  looked  at 
his  friend. 

"  Thomas,"  said  he,  "  you  seem  to  have  had 
a  hard  time  of  it.  You  have  lost  your  hat  and 
you  look  as  if  you  had  been  in  a  wrestling 
match." 

"  I  have,"  replied  the  other;  "  I  wrestled 
with  that  tiller  and  I  wonder  it  didn't  throw 
me  out." 

Now  approached  the  boy.  "  Shall  I  hitch 
him  on  again,  .sir? "  said  he.  "  He's  quiet 
enough  now." 

"  No,"  cried  Mr.  Buller.  "  I  want  no  more 
sailing  after  a  horse,  and,  besides,  we  can't 
go  on  the  lake  with  that  boat;  she  has  been 
battered  about  so  much  that  she  must  have 
opened  a  dozen  seams.  The  best  thing  we  can 
do  is  to  walk  home." 

Mr.  Podington  agreed  with  his  friend  that 
walking  home  was  the  best  thing  they  could 
do.  The  boat  was  examined  and  found  to  be 


34:     THE  BULLER  PODINGTON  COMPACT 

leaking,  but  not  very  badly,  and  when  her 
mast  had  been  unshipped  and  everything  had 
been  made  tight  and  right  on  board,  she  was 
pulled  out  of  the  way  of  tow-lines  and  boats, 
and  made  fast  until  she  could  be  sent  for  from 
the  town. 

Mr.  Buller  and  Mr.  Podington  walked  back 
toward  the  town.  They  had  not  gone  very  far 
when  they  met  a  party  of  boys,  who,  upon 
seeing  them,  burst  into  unseemly  laughter. 

"  Mister/'  cried  one  of  them,  "  you  needn't 
be  afraid  of  tumbling  into  the  canal.  Why 
don't  you  take  off  your  life-preserver  and  let 
that  other  man  put  it  on  his  head?  " 

The  two  friends  looked  at  each  other  and 
could  not  help  joining  in  the  laughter  of  the 
boys. 

"  By  George !  I  forgot  all  about  this,"  said 
Podington,  as  he  unfastened  the  cork  jacket. 
"  It  does  look  a  little  super-timid  to  wear  a 
life-preserver  just  because  one  happens  to  be 
walking  by  the  side  of  a  canal." 

Mr.  Buller  tied  a  handkerchief  on  his  head, 
and  Mr.  Podington  rolled  up  his  life-preserver 
and  carried  it  under  his  arm.  Thus  they 
reached  the  town,  where  Buller  bought  a  hat, 
Podington  dispensed  with  his  bundle,  and  ar- 
rangements were  made  to  bring  back  the  boat. 


THE  BULLER-PODINOTON  COMPACT     35 

"  Runaway  in  a  sail-boat !  "  exclaimed  one 
of  the  canal  boatmen  when  he  had  heard  about 
the  accident.  "  Upon  my  word!  That  beats 
anything  that  could  happen  to  a  man!  " 

"  'No,  it  doesn't,"  replied  Mr.  Buller,  quiet- 
ly. "  I  have  gone  to  the  bottom  in  a  foundered 
road-wagon." 

The  man  looked  at  him  fixedly. 

"  Was  you  ever  stuck  in  the  mud  in  a  bal- 
loon? "  he  asked. 

"  Not  yet,"  replied  Mr.  Buller. 

It  required  ten  days  to  put  Mr.  Buller's  sail- 
boat into  proper  condition,  and  for  ten  days 
Mr.  Podington  stayed  with  his  friend,  and  en- 
joyed his  visit  very  much.  They  strolled  on 
the  beach,  they  took  long  walks  in  the  back 
country,  they  fished  from  the  end  of  a  pier, 
they  smoked,  they  talked,  and  were  happy 
and  contented. 

"  Thomas,"  said  Mr.  Podington,  on  the  last 
evening  of  his  stay,  "  I  have  enjoyed  myself 
very  much  since  I  have  been  down  here,  and 
now,  Thomas,  if  I  were  to  come  down  again 
next  summer,  would  you  mind — would  you 
mind,  not — 

"  I  would  not  mind  it  a  bit,"  replied  Buller, 
promptly.  "  I'll  never  so  much  as  mention  it; 


36      THE  BULLER-PODINQTON  COMPACT 

so  you  can  come  along  without  a  thought  of  it. 
And  since  you  have  alluded  to  the  subject, 
William,"  he  continued,  "  I'd  like  very  much 
to  come  and  see  you  again;  you  know  my 
visit  was  a  very  short  one  this  year.  That  is  a 
beautiful  country  you  live  in.  Such  a  variety 
of  scenery,  such  an  opportunity  for  walks  and 
rambles!  But,  William,  if  you  only  could 
make  up  your  mind  not  to " 

"  Oh,  that  is  all  right!  "  exclaimed  Pod- 
ington.  "  I  do  not  need  to  make  up  my  mind. 
You  come  to  my  house  and  you  shall  never 
so  much  as  hear  of  it.  Here's  my  hand  up- 
on it!  " 

"  And  here's  mine!  "  said  Mr.  Buller. 

Whereupon  they  shook  hands  over  a  new 
compact. 


THE  ROMANCE  OF  A  MULE-CAR 


THE  ROMANCE  OF  A  MULE-CAR 

IT  was  early  summer  in  the  old  French  quar- 
ter of  New  Orleans,  and  they  walked  side 
by  side  along  the  narrow  street  of  Toulouse 
toward  that  little  harbor  shut  up  and  secreted 
in  the  very  heart  of  the  old  town,  and  known 
as  the  Basin. 

He  was  not  a  native  of  the  Crescent  City, 
although  it  was  his  purpose  to  make  it  his 
home,  and  he  had  never  seen  the  Basin.  She 
was  a  Creole  of  the  Creoles,  and  her  twenty- 
two  spring-times  had  all  been  passed  on  the 
shores  of  the  great  river.  Of  herself  she  never 
would  have  thought  of  making  a  visit  to  the 
old  Basin ;  but  as  he  wished  to  see  it,  she  was 
glad  to  see  it  with  him.  There  were  so  many 
other  places  in  this  beautiful  city  which  he 
had  seen  but  seldom  or  not  at  all,  and  which 
were  far  more  attractive  than  this  little  piece 
of  town-inclosed  water,  that  it  might  have 
seemed  strange  to  her,  had  she  not  known  him 
89 


40       TEE  ROMANCE  OF  A  MULE-CAR 

so  well,  that  lie  had  asked  her  to  walk  with  him 
along  this  almost  deserted  street  to  the  quiet 
harbor. 

They  had  met  by  accident  that  afternoon, 
and  it  had  been  a  long  time  since  he  had  had 
such  an  opportunity  of  having  her  for  an  hour 
or  two  all  to  himself.  He  considered  this  op- 
portunity such  a  rare  piece  of  good  fortune 
that  his  strongest  present  wish  was  to  banish 
every  fellow-being  from  the  vicinity  of  him- 
self and  of  her.  The  life  and  gayety  of  the 
town  were,  at  that  moment,  distasteful  to  him. 
The  crowded  streets  of  the  shops,  the  beautiful 
promenades,  the  smooth  Shell  Road,  the  shores 
of  the  glittering  Pontchartrain,  lively  with 
bright  eyes,  bright  colors,  and  merry  voices, 
were  all  places  to  avoid.  In  the  old  street  of 
Toulouse  there  was  not  a  living  being  but  him- 
self and  her. 

But  the  distance  from  Rampart  Street  to 
the  Basin  was  very  short,  and  almost  before  he 
knew  it  they  stood  by  the  side  of  the  little  har- 
bor, which  reaches  forth  to  the  outer  world  of 
water  by  means  of  a  long  and  slender  canal 
stretching  itself  away,  almost  unseen,  among 
the  houses. 

Here  were  some   of  those   quaint  vessels 


THE  ROMANCE  OF  A  MULE-GAR       41 

which  dreamily  float  down  from  the  inland 
waters  of  the  State,  and,  having  reached  the 
widened  surface  of  the  Basin,  drop  into  a 
quiet  nap  by  the  side  of  the  old  gray  piers. 
With  their  cargoes  piled  high  up  on  their 
sterns,  and  the  shadows  of  their  masts  stretch- 
ing far,  far  down  into  the  tranquil  water,  as  if 
they  were  endeavoring  to  reach  a  bottom  of 
mysterious  and  unknown  depth,  they  lay,  with 
the  houses  and  the  streets  around  and  about 
them,  as  quietly  as  if  they  had  been  resting 
on  the  surface  of  a  lagoon  far  away  in  the 
depths  of  the  forest. 

But  the  Basin  was  not  entirely  devoid  of 
human  life.  A  man  in  a  straw  hat  sat  in  a 
shaded  spot  on  one  of  the  vessels,  smoking  a 
cigarette,  and  apparently  waiting  for  some  one 
who  had  been  sent  for.  In  the  middle  of  the 
street,  on  the  other  side  of  the  dock,  were  two 
men  talking,  one  of  whom  was  probably  the 
messenger  who  had  been  sent  for  the  person 
who  was  expected.  There  was  a  woman's 
head  at  the  window  of  one  of  the  houses  which 
overlooked  the  water ;  and  from  an  open  door- 
way came  a  little  child  toddling  in  the  direc- 
tion of  the  Basin. 

This  was  not  the  place  he  had  expected  it 


42       THE  ROMANCE  OF  A  MULE-CAR 

to  be.  From  what  he  had  heard  of  it,  he  had 
imagined  it  a  lonely  spot  with  trees  upon  the 
water's  edge,  and  in  the  air  that  perfume  of 
roses  which  had  helped  to  make  the  city  dear 
to  him.  But  there  were  people  here — people 
with  eyes  and  leisure — and  in  the  air  were 
many  odors,  but  none  of  roses.  There  were 
scents  of  tar,  of  sugar,  and  of  boards  warmed 
by  the  sun,  but  none  of  these  was  in  tune  with 
his  emotions. 

They  stood  silent,  and  looked  down  upon 
the  water.  His  soul  was  on  fire  to  speak;  but 
how  could  he  stand  here  and  say  what  he  had 
to  say?  That  man  upon  the  vessel  had  already 
looked  at  them;  and  suppose,  just  as  he  was 
in  the  middle  of  what  he  had  to  say,  that  tod- 
dling child  should  fall  into  the  water! 

She  saw  that  he  was  ill  at  ease,  and  that  he 
did  not  care  for  basins. 

"  You  have  never  seen  the  old  St.  Louis 
Cemetery,"  said  she.  "  It  is  just  over  there; 
that  is  the  wall  of  it.  Shall  we  go  and  see  it?  " 

But  his  mind  was  not  attuned  to  cemeteries ; 
he  had  never  felt  himself  so  much  alive;  his 
soul  was  like  a  panther  drawn  together  for  a 
spring. 

"  It  is  like  the  olden  time,  that  cemetery," 


THE  ROMANCE  OF  A  MULE-GAR       43 

she  said.  "  It  is  so  still,  so  lonely;  there  seeins 
to  be  nothing  there  but 

"  Let  us  go,"  he  said,  eagerly. 

They  turned  their  backs  upon  the  Basin, 
and,  crossing  the  street,  approached  the  gate- 
way in  the  brick  wall  which  surrounds  the 
quaint  and  venerable  resting-place  of  so  many 
of  the  ancient  inhabitants  of  the  Creole  quar- 
ter. 

The  gate  was  open,  and  they  saw  no  one  in 
the  little  lodge.  They  passed  in,  and  walked 
among  the  tombs,  which  reared  themselves  on 
every  side  as  if  they  might  have  been  habita- 
tions for  living  people  who  had  shrunken  small, 
requiring  but  little  room.  He  had  never  seen 
such  tombs,  all  built  above  ground  on  account 
of  the  watery  nature  of  the  soil;  and  as  they 
walked  along  a  narrow  avenue  bordered  on 
each  side  by  these  houses  of  the  dead,  many 
gray  with  age,  and  some  of  them  half  covered 
with  clinging  vines,  she  pointed  out  to  him 
how  nearly  all  of  the  names  inscribed  upon 
them  were  French  or  Spanish,  and  how  far, 
far  back  were  some  of  the  dates  beneath  them. 
He  had  the  tastes  of  an  antiquarian,  and  the 
quaintnesses  of  history  were  a  joy  to  him.  The 
whole  scene  appeared  as  foreign  to  him  as 


44       THE  ROMANCE  OF  A  MULE-CAR 

though  he  had  been  in  another  land,  and  all 
his  sympathies  stood  ready  to  be  called  forth. 
But  they  heard  no  call;  his  soul  was  still  full 
of  a  desire  to  speak  of  something  which  had 
nothing  to  do  with  the  past,  nothing  to  do 
with  tombs,  gray  stones,  or  clinging  vines. 

"  Let  us  go  this  way,"  said  he,  turning  into 
a  narrower  path. 

At  this  moment  the  form  of  one  of  the  in- 
habitants of  the  tombs  seemed  to  rise  up  before 
them.  It  was  very  tall  and  very  narrow,  and 
the  upper  part  of  it  was  the  head  of  a  very  old 
negro,  bony,  and  adorned  with  patches  of  gray 
hair.  Its  osseous  frame  appeared  to  be  cov- 
ered by  loose,  hanging  clothes  instead  of  flesh. 
It  took  off  its  little  cap,  and  saluted  them  in 
Negro-French.  It  was  the  guardian  of  the 
cemetery. 

The  young  man  was  astonished  and  dis- 
gusted. If  he  could  have  done  it,  he  would 
have  hustled  this  intruding  apparition  into  an 
empty  tomb.  But  his  companion  smiled,  and 
greeted  the  bony  sexton  in  his  own  queer  dia- 
lect. 

This  ancient  keeper  of  the  ancient  tombs 
was  as  courteous  as  if  he  had  been  one  of  the 
stately  personages  now  resting  in  his  domain. 


THE  ROMANCE  OF  A  MULE-OAR      45 

He  would  show  them  the  cemetery;  he  would 
take  them  everywhere;  they  should  see  all. 
He  knew  it  all,  he  had  lived  here  so  long;  with 
his  own  hands  he  had  put  so  many  of  them 
away. 

The  two  young  people  followed  him.  In 
the  soul  of  one  of  them  there  was  bitter  im- 
patience. 

"  Must  that  creature  go  with  us?  "  he  whis- 
pered to  his  companion.  "Is  it  necessary? 
Can  I  not  give  him  some  money  and  send  him 
away? " 

"  Oh,  no,"  said  she,  softly;  "  that  would 
not  be  right;  we  cannot  do  that.  This  is  his 
kingdom ;  he  is  very  proud  to  show  it." 

They  walked  on,  his  face  clouded. 

"  But  the  place  is  small,"  he  said  to  him- 
self, "  and  there  must  soon  be  an  end  to  these 
avenues.  Then  he  must  leave  us,  and  we  can 
rest." 

No  young  mistress  of  a  newly  furnished 
house  could  have  exhibited  her  possessions 
with  more  satisfaction  and  delight  than  did 
this  undulating  structure  of  bones  and  clothes 
show  forth  the  peculiar  features  of  his  mor- 
tuary establishment.  Many  of  the  tombs  were 
made  up  of  rows  of  narrow  tunnels,  each  wide 


46       THE  ROMANCE  OF  A  MULE-GAR 

enough  to  receive  a  coffin,  one  row  above  an- 
other, the  whole  as  high  as  a  tall  man  could 
reach.  These  were  family  vaults;  but  the 
old  sexton  explained  that,  although  they  had 
so  many  apartments,  the  families  often  became 
so  large,  as  time  went  on,  that  the  accommo- 
dations were  not  sufficient. 

"When  one  of  the  tombs  happened  to  be  full, 
he  explained,  and  there  was  another  applicant 
for  admission,  the  oldest  tunnel  was  opened, 
and  if  any  part  of  the  coffin  was  left,  it  was 
taken  out,  and  the  "  remenz  "  (by  which  the 
old  sexton  meant  the  bony  residuum  of  the  oc- 
cupant) were  pushed  to  one  side,  and  the  new 
coffin  thrust  in  and  sealed  up.  Then  the  an- 
cient coffin  was  burned,  and  the  new  and  the 
old  inhabitant  of  the  tunnel  dwelt  together 
in  peace. 

She  listened  with  gentle  attention,  although 
she  had  heard  it  all  before;  but,  standing  by 
her  side,  he  fumed.  How  utterly  irrelevant 
were  these  dreadful  details  to  the  thoughts 
which  filled  his  brain ! 

They  passed  a  tomb  smaller  than  some  of 
the  others,  and  so  old  that  she  stopped  to  look 
at  it.  The  stone  slab  on  which  was  the  inscrip- 
tion was  so  covered  with  moss  and  shaded  by 


THE  ROMANCE  OF  A  MULE- OAR    •  47 

vines  that  the  words  could  scarcely  be  read; 
but  she  stooped,  and  he  stooped  with  her,  and 
they  saw  that  this  was  the  last  resting-place 
of  a  noble  Spanish  gentleman  whose  virtues 
and  lineage  had  never  been  obscured  except  by 
the  lichens  and  ferns  which  spread  themselves 
about  the  lower  part  of  his  tomb. 

The  sexton  was  happy  to  see  them  interested 
in  this  tomb;  it  was  his  favorite  sepulchre. 
He  spoke  to  them  in  broken  Creole-French,  in 
broken  English,  and  in  Negro-French — the 
very  dust  and  debris  of  the  different  languages. 
The  young  man  could  understand  scarcely  a 
word  the  old  negro  said,  but  she  picked  out  his 
meaning  from  the  shattered  lingual  fragments. 

He  had  been  a  great  man,  this  ancient  Span- 
ish gentleman,  the  sexton  said.  Once  every- 
body in  this  town  looked  up  to  him.  Grand 
family  he  had.  All  people  looked  up  at  them' 
too.  !STow  family  all  gone ;  nobody  come  here 
to  take  care  of  tomb.  Tomb  would  have  dis- 
appeared, as  the  family  had  gone,  had  not  he 
himself  looked  to  it  that  the  storms  and  the 
vines  did  not  destroy  it  and  cover  it  up  out 
of  sight.  A  very  noble  man  he  had  been,  this 
Spanish  gentleman.  Then,  suddenly  turning 
to  the  two  young  people,  the  old  man  inquired 


48       THE  ROMANCE  OF  A  MULE-GAR 

if  they  would  like  to  see  "  him,"  and,  without 
waiting  for  an  answer,  he  stepped  to  the  back 
of  the  tomb. 

"  Come,"  said  she  to  her  companion.  "  The 
gentleman  receives;  we  must  not  be  impolite." 

Unwillingly  he  followed  her. 

The  top  of  this  tomb  was  low  and  of  dome- 
like form,  and  at  the  back  of  it  many  of  the 
bricks  were  loose.  Looking  about  to  see  that 
there  were  no  intruders  near,  for  the  receptions 
of  the  Spanish  gentleman  were  very  select,  the 
old  man  removed  a  number  of  the  loose  bricks. 
Pointing  to  the  large  orifice  thus  made,  he  in- 
vited his  visitors  to  look  in  and  see  "  him." 
The  vault  was  rather  spacious,  and  on  the  dry 
and  dusty  floor  the  Spanish  gentleman  was  re- 
posing in  a  detached  condition.  The  sexton 
thrust  in  his  long  arm,  scarcely  less  bony  than 
those  of  the  hidalgo,  and  took  out  a  skull, 
which  he  handed  to  the  lady.  After  this  he 
presented  the  young  man  with  a  thigh-bone, 
which,  however,  was  declined.  The  day  was 
becoming  a  hollow  tomb  to  this  lover ;  its  floor 
was  covered  with  dismal  bones  instead  of  the 
life  and  love  which  he  had  hoped  for  on  this 
bright  and  sunny  afternoon  in  early  summer. 
He  was  morose. 


THE  ROMANCE  OF  A  MULE-GAR       49 

"  The  Spanish  gentleman  must  have  had 
two  heads,"  he  said  to  his  companion.  "  See; 
far  back  there  is  another  skull!  " 

"Hush,"  said  she;  "we  must  not  notice 
that;  we  must  be  polite  at  this  reception." 

The  old  man  put  the  skull  back  into  the 
tomb,  replaced  the  bricks,  and  they  passed  on. 

In  one  corner  of  the  cemetery  they  came 
upon  a  charming  little  inclosure,  a  true  gar- 
den of  greenery,  which  adjoined  a  small 
chapel.  There  were  a  fence  and  a  gate,  and 
there  was  a  suggestive  shadowness  in  the  rear 
of  the  quiet  chapel  which  seemed  to  strike  a 
note  of  perfect  accord  with  the  young  man's 
emotions. 

"  Ah,"  said  he,  "  let  us  go  in  here;  it  will 
be  pleasant  to  rest  in  the  shade  after  so  much 
walking.  Will  you  tell  the  sexton  that  we  do 
not  care  to  see  any  more  tombs  just  now?  " 

She  did  not  answer,  but  the  old  man  spoke 
quickly.  He  had  something  to  say.  His  voice 
was  raised;  he  became  excited.  He  declared 
that  it  was  true  what  he  was  going  to  tell  them; 
hardly  could  they  believe  it,  but  it  was  true. 
One  day  two  young  people  came  to  the  ceme- 
tery, and  they  went  into  the  garden  of  the 
chapel,  and  they  sat  down  in  the  shade  and 


50       THE  ROMANCE  OF  A  MULE-OAR 

made  love.  He  saw  them,  and  he  told  them 
that  they  must  not  make  love  in  the  garden  of 
the  chapel;  but  they  would  not  listen  to  him 
— they  would  not  regard  him  at  all;  they  sat 
and  made  love;  and  when  he  insisted  that  this 
was  not  the  place  to  make  love,  they  still  made 
love.  Then  he  went  for  the  police,  and  when 
he  came  back  with  the  officer,  the  love-making 
was  over,  and  they  had  gone;  but  the  priest 
locked  that  garden  gate,  and  no  visitors  went 
in  any  more.  Was  it  not  dreadful,  he  said, 
all  his  bones  quivering  with  earnestness,  that 
Christian  people  should  do  that?  The  young 
man  turned  disgusted  to  her. 

"  I  cannot  bear  any  more  tombs  or  skele- 
tons, alive  or  dead.  Let  us  go  out  into  the 
world  of  life." 

"  Yes,"  said  she,  "  the  hours  slip  on ;  it 
is  time  that  I  go  to  my  house." 

The  old  sexton  took  the  money  that  was 
offered  him — far  more  than  he  had  expected 
—but  he  was  not  satisfied ;  there  was  so  much 
of  the  cemetery  which  they  had  not  seen.  But 
they  would  come  again,  he  said,  as  he  raised 
his  little  cap;  then  he  would  show  them  the 
rest. 

"  If  it  is  not  to  be,"  the  young  man  said 


THE  ROMANCE  OF  A  MULE-GAR       51 

in  his  heart,  "  then  will  I  gladly  come  again, 
and  stay;  but  otherwise  never." 

Now  they  walked  together  in  the  broad  and 
beautiful  street  of  the  Ramparts,  and  they 
moved  slowly  in  the  direction  of  Canal  Street, 
that  great  central  artery  of  movement  and  life. 
It  should  have  been  a  joy  to  walk  with  her, 
but  he  was  disappointed.  There  were  people 
on  the  sidewalks,  there  were  people  on  the 
piazzas,  electric-cars  passed  them;  and  she 
talked  to  him  about  the  houses,  some  of  which 
had  little  histories;  but  houses,  histories,  elec- 
tric-cars, and  the  people  they  met  and  the  peo- 
ple who  looked  down  upon  them,  were  all  as 
the  taste  of  bitter  herbs  in  his  mouth.  This 
was  the  first  time  he  had  been  so  completely 
alone  with  her,  and  the  afternoon  was  passing. 
If  he  had  had  his  day  to  live  over  again,  he 
would  have  stopped  short  in  the  old  street  of 
Toulouse,  and  would  there  have  said  what  he 
had  to  say.  There  had  been  absolutely  nobody 
in  the  street  of  Toulouse. 

They  reached  Canal  Street,  and  they  stood 
together,  waiting  until  a  car  should  come 
which  would  take  her  to  her  home.  With 
whirring  and  roaring  the  cars  passed  this  way 
and  that,  but  the  one  she  waited  for  did  not 


52       THE  ROMANCE  OF  A  MULE-CAR 

come.  He  would  have  been  glad  to  stand 
there  waiting  for  the  rest  of  the  day.  He 
could  not  speak  as  he  would  speak,  but  he 
was  near  her. 

Presently  there  was  heard  the  gentle  tink- 
ling of  a  bell.  She  almost  clapped  her  hands. 

"  It  is  a  mule-car!  "  she  said.  "  I  will  go 
in  a  mule-car.  It  will  not  be  long  before  the 
mule-car  shall  disappear.  Look  at  it  as  it 
comes ;  see  how  that  it  is  funny !  " 

Slowly  the  mule-car  jingled  toward  them, 
and  as  it  came  it  was  truly  funny.  Among 
the  last  of  its  kind  which  once  circulated  plac- 
idly all  over  the  old  city,  with  its  mule  trotting 
deliberately  in  front  of  it,  and  its  shabby  sides 
suggestive  of  no  memories  of  fresh  paint,  it 
formed  a  striking  contrast  to  the  swiftly  roll- 
ing electric-cars,  shining  in  bright  colors,  and 
gay  with  signs  and  lettering. 

He  stopped  the  car,  and  helped  her  in.  As 
he  seated  himself  by  her  side  she  raised  her  eye- 
brows a  very  little,  as  if  she  would  say  to  her- 
self that  although  it  was  not  absolutely  neces- 
sary for  him  to  come  with  her — for  it  was  out 
of  his  way — yet  that  was  his  affair,  and  she 
would  no  more  interfere  with  him  than  she 
had  interfered  with  the  Spanish  gentleman 
who  had  received  that  afternoon. 


THE  ROMANCE  OF  A   MULE-OAR      53 

There  were  not  many  people  in  the  mule- 
car,  for  most  persons  preferred  swifter  methods 
of  transportation ;  but  it  carried  some  passen- 
gers. All  these  persons — there  were  four  of 
them — sat  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  car; 
none  of  them  had  a  newspaper  to  read,  and 
they  seemed  to  have  nothing  upon  their  minds 
but  the  two  young  people  who  were  seated 
quietly  side  by  side  not  very  far  from  one  of 
the  front  windows.  It  must  have  been  a  pleas- 
ure to  look  at  them,  for  in  countenance  and  rai- 
ment they  were  prepossessing  in  a  high  de- 
gree ;  but  there  are  pleasures  which  should  be 
pursued  with  moderation — at  least,  the  young 
man  thought  so.  He  knew  that  if  he  said  to 
her  anything  which  was  not  commonplace 
there  would  be  a  gleam  of  intelligence  in  the 
faces  opposite. 

Slowly  the  mule-car  trundled  along  the 
shaded  avenue  into  which  it  had  turned,  and 
then,  at  a  cross  street,  it  stopped,  and,  wonder 
of  wonders !  two  of  the  passengers  got  out.  It 
was  hard  to  believe  that  such  persons  would  be 
willing  to  pay  their  money  for  so  short  a  ride, 
and  yet  perhaps  they  had  come  up  all  the  way 
from  the  river-front. 

Now  the  bell  on  the  mule  tinkled  again,  and 


54:       THE  ROMANCE  OF  A   MULE- CAR 

again  the  car  rolled  on.  The  passenger  who 
was  nearest  the  door  was  an  elderly  woman, 
very  stout,  with  a  dark  and  lowering  visage. 
The  other  was  a  man,  thin  and  nervous,  who 
frequently  looked  out  of  the  front  window 
near  which  he  sat.  He  had  been  the  least  ob- 
jectionable of  the  four  original  passengers,  for 
the  reason  that  he  had  sometimes  turned  his 
eyes  away  from  the  couple  on  the  other  side 
of  the  car. 

It  was  not  long  before  the  car  began  to  go 
slower  and  slower,  and  then  it  stopped.  The 
man  in  the  front  corner  turned  quickly,  and 
stared  out  of  the  window. 

"  Ha!  "  he  exclaimed,. "  it  is  a  ship!  "  and 
with  that  he  rose,  picked  up  a  paper  package 
by  his  side,  and  left  the  car. 

The  other  occupants  all  looked  out  of  the 
window's,  and  they  saw  why  the  car  had 
stopped.  It  had  reached  the  little  canal  which 
stretches  along  between  the  houses  from  the 
Basin  to  the  bayou  of  St.  John,  and  the  draw- 
bridge was  open  to  allow  the  passage  of  one 
of  the  queer,  stern-freighted  vessels  pursuing 
its  sluggish  way  toward  the  little  harbor.  Its 
bowsprit  had  barely  reached  the  draw,  but  it 
was  moving. 


THE  ROMANCE  OF  A  MULE-GAR       55 

The  mule,  the  driver,  and  the  car  now  set- 
tled themselves  into  a  condition  of  repose.  Re- 
pose was  pleasant  on  such  a  warm  and  breeze- 
less  summer  afternoon,  and  the  driver,  his  back 
resting  against  the  front  of  the  car,  dropped 
into  a  doze.  These  incidents  of  enforced  in- 
activity were  familiar  to  him,  and  he  knew 
how  to  take  advantage  of  them.  But  the  mule, 
although  glad  to  rest  upon  his  four  motionless 
legs,  had  no  desire  to  sleep.  He  gazed  upon 
the  slowly  advancing  vessel,  and  then,  turning 
his  head  from  side  to  side,  he  glanced  first 
into  one  and  then  into  the  other  of  the  front 
windows  of  the  car.  Now  he  looked  again  at 
the  vessel;  he  cast  his  eyes  upon  the  draw- 
bridge, which  seemed  glad  to  rest  for  a  time 
in  a  new  position;  then  he  stood  reflective, 
but  not  for  long.  The  occupants  of  the  car 
seemed  to  interest  him,  and  again  he  turned 
his  gaze  upon  them. 

The  faces  of  the  two  young  people  had  un- 
dergone a  slight  change  since  the  mule  had 
first  regarded  them.  They  were  evidently  un- 
der the  influence  of  emotions  which  were  grow- 
ing upon  them.  She  was  very  quiet,  gazing 
straight  before  her;  but  in  her  cheeks  there 
were  some  slight  indications  of  the  pallor  of 


56       THE  ROMANCE  OF  A  MULE-CAR 

expectancy.  It  was  different  with  him:  he 
was  clearly  agitated.  His  eyes  moved  quick- 
ly and  anxiously  from  the  vessel  in  the  canal 
to  the  stout  woman  near  the  door  of  the  car. 
He  said  but  little,  and  one  might  have  sup- 
posed that  his  heart  was  beating  more  rapidly 
than  usual. 

The  woman  with  the  basket  was  very  much 
annoyed,  and  did  not  take  any  pains  to  con- 
ceal it.  Even  the  mule  could  see  that  she  was 
growling  inwardly,  and  that  now  and  then  she 
gave  vent  to  an  exclamation  of  impatience; 
but  she  showed  no  signs  of  intending  to  get 
out.  Even  had  she  lived  but  one  short  block 
on  the  other  side  of  the  canal,  she  was  a  woman 
who  wanted  the  full  value  of  the  five  cents  she 
had  paid  for  her  passage  to  her  home.  She 
could  now  cross  the  canal  on  another  bridge 
if  she  chose.  If  she  were  in  such  a  hurry,  why 
did  she  not  get  out  and  walk  the  rest  of  the 
xvay  ?  Her  basket  was  a  little  one. 

But  although  her  face  grew  darker,  and  her 
muttered  exclamations  became  more  frequent, 
she  did  not  move.  To  the  eyes  of  the  young 
man,  she  looked  as  if  she  had  been  pressed 
upon  the  seat  in  a  partially  melted  condition, 
and  had  hardened  there.  His  heart  was  heavy 


THE  ROMANCE  OF  A  MULE-CAR      57 

as  he  turned  his  eyes  away  from  her.  How 
could  he  have  expected  that  such  an  opportu- 
nity should  almost  come  to  him!  No  one 
would  get  into  a  car  that  was  standing  still  by 
an  open  draw.  The  driver  was  asleep.  If  he 
could  have  hired  a  carriage  to  take  that  impa- 
tient, fretting  woman  to  the  bosom  of  her 
family — aye,  if  he  could  have  bought  a  car- 
riage to  take  her  home,  he  would  not  have 
hesitated  at  this  supreme  moment. 

Few  words  passed  between  the  two  young 
people.  He  was  very  restless.  He  looked  out 
of  the  open  door,  fearing,  he  could  not  have 
told  himself  why,  that  another  mule-car  might 
soon  come  along.  Then  he  looked  out  front. 
The  vessel  was  nearly  through  the  draw.  For 
himself  he  wished  that  it  had  stuck  fast,  that 
it  had  gone  aground,  that  it  could  move  no 
more  for  hours ;  then  that  she-demon  must  get 
out  and  walk.  The  mule  again  looked  back 
into  the  car.  He  saw  the  agitation  of  the 
young  man;  he  saw  the  steady  gaze  and  the 
now  fluctuating  pallor  of  his  companion;  he 
saw  also  the  indignant  irritation  of  the  stolid 
woman  with  the  basket.  He  turned  away  his 
head,  and  gazed  reflectively  before  him. 

The  vessel  moved  entirely  out  of  the  draw; 


58       THE  ROMANCE  OF  A  MULE-CAR 

the  bridge  came  slowly  and  noiselessly  back 
into  its  position;  the  man  at  the  draw  went 
away.  Everything  was  quiet  and  still;  an  ad- 
ditional hush  seemed  to  have  come  upon  the 
scene.  The  mule  gazed  straight  before  him  at 
the  bridge  now  ready  for  his  advance,  but  he 
moved  not  even  enough  to  give  the  slightest 
tinkle  to  his  bell ;  the  driver  slept. 

The  woman  with  the  basket  had  been  look- 
ing out  at  the  back.  Perhaps  she  thought  that 
if  another  car  came  something  might  happen 
to  hurry  matters;  but  now  she  turned,  and 
beheld  the  vessel  clearly  past  the  draw,  and 
moving  on  to  conceal  itself  between  the  houses. 
Why  did  not  the  car  go  on?  She  did  not  see 
that  the  bridge  had  come  into  its  place.  A 
thought  flashed  upon  her. 

"  They  wait  for  another  ship !  "  she  ex- 
claimed. "  This  is  terrible !  It  is  that  life  has 
not  enough  of  length  for  this."  And  with  a 
sudden  snap  of  her  teeth,  she  rose  and  got  out. 

The  motion  given  to  the  car  by  the  descent 
of  the  heavy  woman  awoke  the  driver,  who 
suddenly  opened  his  eyes,  stood  up  straight, 
and  seeing  that  the  way  was  clear  before  him, 
started  his  mule.  This  animal,  slowly  turning 
his  head  backward  to  look  at  the  stout  woman, 


THE  ROMANCE  OF  A  MULE- CAR       59 

who  was  indignantly  making  her  way  toward 
the  sidewalk,  went  off  at  a  great  rate,  as  though 
he  were  impressed  with  the  idea  that  he  must 
make  up  lost  time;  then,  when  it  was  im- 
possible for  the  woman  to  overtake  the  car,  he 
slackened  his  speed.  As  he  did  so  he  turned 
his  head,  he  gazed  into  the  front  window  of 
the  car,  he  saw  the  young  people  side  by  side 
and  alone ;  then,  with  a  gentle  wave  of  his  long 
ears,  as  though  he  would  say,  "  It  is  all  ar- 
ranged, my  children,"  he  discreetly  turned 
away  his  head,  and  trotted  on. 

The  pallor  on  the  face  of  the  beautiful  Cre- 
ole changed  to  a  flush.  If  she  had  obeyed  the 
dictates  of  her  heart  she  would  have  clapped 
her  hands,  exclaiming,  "  What  a  beautiful 
mule !  "  But  she  knew  how  to  control  the  dic- 
tates of  her  heart,  and  said  nothing.  He 
moved  quickly  in  his  seat,  like  a  man  who 
would  make  a  bound  into  paradise  as  the  gates 
were  closing ;  and  as  she,  at  the  same  moment, 
turned  her  head,  he  looked  into  her  eyes. 
There  was  a  light  in  those  eyes — a  tremulous 
light  which  shone  inward,  so  that  he  looked 
back  and  back  and  back  into  the  very  inner- 
most recesses  of  her  soul.  There  he  saw  what 
he  wanted  to  see!  He  said  no  word,  but  he 


60       THE  ROMANCE  OF  A  MULE-CAR 

clasped  her  right  hand  in  both  of  his  own.  She 
did  not  withdraw  it;  her  face  was  still  turned 
toward  him. 

Gently  the  mule  moved  his  head;  with  a 
backward  glance  of  one  eye  he  saw  everything. 
Then  again  he  looked  in  front  of  him,  and 
lowering  his  ears,  he  let  them  drop  between 
his  eyes  and  the  front  windows  of  the  car,  so 
that  it  would  be  impossible  for  him,  even  by 
accident,  to  see  what  was  going  on  within.  If 
the  young  man  perceived  this  considerate  act, 
he  did  not  appreciate  the  fact  that  he  saw  it, 
but  there  came  upon  him  the  feeling  that  for 
a  moment  he  was  free  to  forget  everything  in 
the  world  but  himself  and  her,  and  folding 
her  in  his  arms,  he  gave  her  the  first  warm 
kiss  of  love.  Yes;  thus  it  was,  in  broad  day- 
light, and  in  a  mule-car,  these  two  plighted 
their  troth ! 

Now  the  car  rolled  on,  but  it  seemed  no  more 
to  move  on  iron  rails.  It  might  have  glided 
over  soft  masses  of  fleecy  clouds,  so  gentle,  so 
joyous  was  its  motion.  The  tinkling  of  the 
bell  on  the  mule  changed  into  sweet  strains  of 
music  from  the  harps  of  angels;  the  waters  of 
the  little  branch  canal,  which  ran  along  the 
middle  of  the  wide  avenue,  sent  up,  in  all 


THE  ROMANCE  OF  A  MULE-CAR       61 

their  original  fragrance,  the  odors  of  every 
flower  or  fruit  that  had  ever  fallen  upon  their 
tranquil  surface,  and  the  leaves  of  the  tall  live- 
oaks  overhead  changed  their  dull  summer 
green,  as  if  they  had  been  suddenly  trans- 
muted, by  a  wind  from  some  magic  sky,  into 
delicate  sheets  of  sparkling  emerald.  For  him 
there  were  no  people  in  this  great  world  ex- 
cept themselves.  But  she,  as  they  sat  there 
with  their  hands  still  clasped,  threw  over  those 
hands  a  corner  of  her  light  summer  wrap. 
Even  in  this  sudden  heaven  she  did  not  forget 
the  world. 

The  mule  looked  back  again.  He  saw  both 
their  faces,  and  he  raised  his  ears  to  their  nor- 
mal position.  Even  to  those  ears  his  bell  had 
never  sounded  so  musical. 

Suddenly,  in  the  midst  of  all  the  fleecy 
clouds,  the  angel  music,  the  delicate  fragrance, 
the  emerald  green,  and  the  low,  impassioned 
speech,  she  started  to  her  feet. 

"  We  have  reached  the  Esplanade,"  she 
said;  "  I  must  get  out." 

As  they  stood  together  upon  the  sidewalk, 
the  mule  gave  them  one  last  look,  and  then 
moved  on  upon  his  tinkling  way. 

"  No,"  said  she ;  "  you  must  not  walk  to  my 


62       THE  ROMANCE  OF  A  MULE-CAR 

house  with  me.  It  is  not  right  that  I  should 
promenade  with  one  so  happy." 

With  o*ne  long  look,  more  effulgent  than  the 
overhanging  sun,  he  left  her.  Like  a  swift 
stag  breathing  the  strong  wind  of  the  hills,  he 
ran  after  the  mule-car,  quickly  caught  up  with 
it,  and  sprang  inside.  She  was  gone,  but  he 
would  sit  where  she  had  been  sitting;  so  long 
as  he  might,  he  would  ride  on  in  that  heavenly 
car.  But  the  young  man  could  not  sit  still;  he 
went  out  on  the  platform,  and  talked  to  the 
driver. 

"  Yes,"  said  the  man,  "  it  will  not  be  long 
that  I  shall  drive  this  car.  It  will  soon  be 
taken  off.  The  people  here  now  have  no  use 
for  mule-cars." 

He  did  not  know  why  it  was,  but,  for  some 
reason  which  he  did  not  try  to  comprehend, 
the  heart  of  the  young  man  warmed  toward 
that  mule.  He  wished  that  it  had  a  more 
comely  tail. 

When  he  and  she  were  married  they  went  to 
live  in  a  little  house  far  out  upon  a  wide  and 
flowery  avenue.  This  cottage  stood  but  one 
story  high,  but  it  spread  itself  here  and  there 
upon  a  grassy  lawn,  and  lilies  and  roses  and  all 


THE  ROMANCE  OF  A  MULE-CAR       63 

manner  of  fragrant  flowers  and  sweet-smelling 
bushes  crowded  about  it,  as  though  they  would 
look  into  its  windows,  and  so  imbue  them- 
selves with  fresh  fragrance  and  fresh  beauty. 
Love  sat  upon  the  little  door-step  to  say  "  not 
at  home  "  to  every  inharmonious  visitor;  and 
if  there  were  but  one  blue  patch  in  the  sky, 
it  hung  tenderly  above  that  roof.  Rearward 
of  the  house  there  nestled  a  little  yard  of 
green,  and  above  its  odoriferous  shrubbery 
there  often  raised  themselves  a  pair  of  long, 
soft  ears;  these  belonged  to  the  mule  of  the 
mule-car.  "  Since  they  have  use  for  him  no 
more,"  she  had  said — it  was  not  necessary  now 
for  her  to  control  the  dictates  of  her  heart — 
"  he  must  come  to  us;  he  must  be  our  own." 
Even  though  in  the  mule-car  she  had  sat 
gazing  straight  before  her,  she  had  seen  far 
more  than  her  companion  could  see.  She 
could  appreciate,  she  could  understand;  and 
when,  sitting  together  on  their  piazza  in  the 
quiet  moonlight,  she  would  hear  the  tinkle  of 
a  bell  from  behind  the  house,  she  would  take 
him  by  the  hand,  and  they  would  both  re- 
member how  the  angels  once  played  their 
harps  under  the  live-oak  of  Claiborne  Avenue. 


THE  GOVERNOR-GENERAL 


THE  GOVERNOR-GENERAL 

IT  was  the  most  beautiful  time  of  the  year 
in  the  island  of  Manana ;  the  waters  of  the 
encircling  Pacific  were  warm,  but  the  breezes 
which  came  from  the  neighboring  islet  of 
Pruga  were  cool  and  odorous  with  the  fra- 
grance from  many  an  aromatic  tree  and  shrub. 
There  were  no  inhabitants  on  the  islet  of 
Pruga,  for  its  coral  reefs  did  not  offer  induce- 
ments to  visiting  craft,  and  it  seemed  to  exist 
solely  for  the  purpose  of  furnishing  fragrance 
to  the  island  of  Manana,  where  the  winds  blew 
from  the  northwest. 

The  Governor-General  of  the  colony,  Senor 
Gonzales  Proventura  y  Torado,  sat  upon  the 
front  veranda  of  his  official  residence,  on  the 
plaza  of  Ruta,  the  capital  city  of  the  colony. 
The  Governor  was  smoking  sadly;  the  fumes 
from  his  rapid  succession  of  cigarettes  mingled 
with  the  odors  floating  over  the  sea  from 
Pruga,  but  his  senses  were  not  gratified,  nor 
67 


68  THE  GOVERNOR-GENERAL 

was  his  soul  comforted.  Before  him,  on  a  lit- 
tle wooden  perch,  there  stood  a  parrot,  brilliant 
in  yellow  and  red.  It  was  motionless;  it  was 
dead;  it  was  stuffed.  Five  weeks  before  that 
day  he  had  shot  it,  and  it  had  just  been  brought 
home  by  a  native  taxidermist.  It  was  the  last 
parrot  he  had  shot,  and  his  soul  grew  heavier 
as  he  gazed  upon  it. 

Senor  Proventura  was  a  collector  of  parrots. 
In  earlier  days,  in  other  spheres  of  colonial 
duties,  he  had  been  a  collector  of  monkeys, 
but  now  he  devoted  his  powers  of  marksman- 
ship entirely  to  the  bagging  of  the  brilliantly 
colored  parrots  which  were  found  in  the  island 
over  which  he  exercised  colonial  authority. 
He  was  not  only  a  sportsman,  he  was  a  man  of 
scientific  proclivities,  and  he  had  invented  a 
new  chromatic  scale  in  which  all  the  desired 
combinations  of  color  were  furnished  by  the 
plumage  of  parrots.  Many  of  these  birds  were 
arranged  in  order  in  a  corridor  of  his  house, 
but  the  scale  was  not  yet  complete  and  more 
parrots  were  needed.  It  had  been  five  weeks 
since  he  had  shot  one,  and  the  soul  of  the  Gov- 
ernor-General was  downcast. 

The  morning  air  rested  lightly  on  the  rip- 
pling waters  of  the  harbor  of  Ruta;  a  bare- 


THE  GOVERNOR-GENERAL  69 

footed  native  brought  fresh  cigarettes  to  the 
Governor-General,  and  as  he  placed  them  on 
a  small  table  he  called  the  attention  of  his  Ex- 
cellency to  something  in  the  distance.  The 
Governor-General  looked  up  and  beheld  a 
man-of-war  coming  in  from  the  sea. 

"Bring  me  mj  glass!  "  cried  Sefior  Pro- 
ventura,  rising  hastily.  "  But  stop.  What  is 
the  flag?  " 

"  It  is  the  ensign  of  Cabotia,  your  Excel- 
lency," answered  the  servant. 

The  Captain  of  the  man-of-war  raised  his 
glass  to  his  eyes  and  scanned  the  bay  of  Euta. 
There  was  but  one  vessel  moving  upon  its 
waters.  This  was  a  ferry-boat,  small  and  of 
antique  fashion.  A  man  at  the  end  of  a  long 
wooden  tiller  steered  the  boat,  and  the  pas- 
sengers, returning  from  their  morning  duties 
in  the  town  to  their  homes  on  the  other  side 
of  the  harbor,  were  standing  in  the  bow  to 
catch  the  breeze. 

"  Fire  a  blank  shot  to  bring  her  to,"  ordered 
the  Captain. 

The  gunner  was  ready  and  a  cannon  roared. 
The  disintegrated  wadding  of  the  charge,  in 
the  shape  of  a  hundred  thousand  little  pieces 


70  THE  GOVERNOR-GENERAL 

of  cartridge-paper,  fell  in  a  shower  upon  the 
passengers  of  the  ferry-boat,  who  were  in- 
censed with  anger.  "  Those  wretched  sailors 
on  that  Cabotian  ship  are  crazy  with  drink!  " 
they  cried.  "  They  do  not  even  know  how  to 
fire  a  salute.  We  shall  complain  to  the  Gov- 
ernor-General." The  man  at  the  tiller  was 
very  indignant  and  swore,  but  he  kept  on  his 
course,  for  his  passengers  must  reach  their 
homes;  but  he  would  complain  when  he  made 
his  return  trip. 

"  That  did  not  bring  her  to,"  said  the  Cap- 
tain of  the  man-of-war.  "  Fire  a  solid  shot 
across  her  bow." 

Again  roared  the  cannon  and  an  iron  shot 
flew  over  the  harbor.  It  whistled  by  the  peo- 
ple of  the  ferry-boat,  and  the  man  at  the  tiller, 
turning  pale  with  fright,  ran  half  across  the 
deck  in  his  anxiety  to  turn  his  vessel  about 
quickly  and  get  her  back  to  town.  Such  reck- 
less firing  of  salutes  he  had  never  heard  of. 

The  iron  ball  went  on;  it  passed  the  head 
of  the  harbor;  it  flew  over  the  marshes  where 
the  cryptogams  grew  in  wild  profusion;  its 
little  black  shadow  crossed  palm-groves  and 
patches  of  cultivated  ground.  An  old  woman 
was  returning  to  her  home,  carrying  a  bread- 


THE  GOVERNOR-GENERAL  71 

fruit  for  her  noonday  meal,  but  just  before  she 
reached  her  little  hut,  thatched  with  palmetto 
leaves,  the  cannon-ball,  now  descending  to- 
ward the  earth,  struck  the  main  cross-beam, 
above  the  door,  and  the  cottage  disappeared. 
It  was  like  magic;  it  had  been  there — it  was 
gone !  The  old  woman  fell  upon  her  trembling- 
knees.  If  she  had  wished  to  gather  together 
the  remnants  of  her  home  she  would  have 
needed  a  dustpan  and  brush. 

"  It  is  good,"  said  the  Governor-General; 
"  they  are  firing  salutes.  Summon  the  Adju- 
tant-General and  the  Alcalde." 

"  Pardon,  your  Excellency,"  said  the  ser- 
vant, "  they  are  fishing  on  the  west  coast." 

"  Very  well,  then,"  cried  the  Governor- 
General,  "  order  my  boat's  crew  to  be  ready 
on  the  instant.  I  must  go  out  alone  to  our 
visitors."  And  so  saying  he  rushed  into  the 
house  to  put  on  his  uniform. 

His  wife  assisted  him  in  arraying  himself  in 
his  official  costume.  She  was  delighted  at  the 
news,  for  she  was  fond  of  social  enjoyment 
and  had  two  daughters  likewise  inclined,  and 
officers  from  foreign  ships,  when  they  hap- 
pened to  touch  at  Ruta,  always  made  things 


72  THE  GOVERNOR-GENERAL 

lively  in  the  otherwise  quiet  town.  It  was 
even  possible  that  there  might  be  a  ball.  At 
that  moment  there  was  a  ball.  It  struck  the 
rocks  at  the  base  of  El  Morro,  the  antique 
fortress  at  the  entrance  of  the  harbor. 

"  Hurry,  my  dear!  "  cried  the  Governor- 
General.  "  They  are  still  firing  their  salutes 
and  I  must  get  to  them  as  quickly  as  possible. 
Give  me  my  state  hat." 

His  wife  handed  him  the  heavily  plumed 
cocked-hat.  He  clapped  it  on  and  hurried  to 
the  water's  edge,  where  he  found  his  boat  wait- 
ing him.  The  crew  had  wakened  from  their 
morning  siesta  at  the  first  sound  of  the  cannon. 
Everybody  was  excited;  the  town  had  been 
saluted  and  the  fort  had  not  returned  the 
courtesy. 

Just  as  the  boat  was  about  to  push  off,  a  slim 
native  boy,  wearing  but  a  single  white  gar- 
ment, which  had  been  freshly  washed,  came 
flying  toward  the  little  pier. 

"  Your  Excellency!  "  he  shouted.  "  Seiiora 
Proventura  has  sent  you  your  night-cap.  She 
says  your  big  hat  makes  your  head  hot,  and 
when  you  take  it  off  you  must  put  something 
else  on." 

The    Governor   impatiently   snatched   the 


THE  GOVERNOR-GENERAL  73 

nightcap  and  stuffed  it  into  his  pocket.  "  Give 
way!  "  he  cried. 

The  slim  boy  had  stepped  upon  the  stern 
of  the  boat  behind  the  Governor,  to  hand  him 
the  nightcap,  and  he  was  so  much  excited  that 
he  forgot  to  step  off  again;  so  he  remained 
standing  behind  the  Governor,  who  did  not 
notice  him. 

The  crew  pulled  hard.  They  were  excited, 
for  it  was  very  interesting  to  visit  a  foreign 
man-of-war.  The  Captain  of  the  protected 
cruiser  from  Cabotia  stood  on  the  quarter- 
deck, surrounded  by  his  officers. 

"  They  are  sending  us  a  flag  of  truce,"  he 
said,  as  he  saw  the  one  garment  of  the  slim  boy 
fluttering  in  the  wind.  "  Order  the  firing  to 
cease." 

The  Governor-General  mounted  to  the 
quarter-deck,  gracious,  but  dignified.  He 
spoke  English  very  well ;  he  shook  hands  with 
the  officers  and  welcomed  them  to  Maiiana. 

"  It  grieves  me  greatly,  your  Excellency," 
he  said  to  the  Captain,  "  that  we  have  not  been 
able  to  return  your  salute,  but  you  must  not 
accuse  us  of  discourtesy.  We  are  absolutely 
out  of  powder.  In  fact,  I  have  not  been  able, 
on  the  whole  island,  to  scrape  together  enough 


74  THE  GOVERNOR-GENERAL 

to  load  my  fowling-piece,  and  it  is  now  five 
weeks  since  I  have  shot  a  parrot.  I  am  a 
sportsman  and  I  feel  the  deprivation  keenly." 

Some  of  the  officers  looked  at  each  other  and 
smiled,  and  the  Captain  thus  addressed  the 
Governor-General : 

"  Sir,  you  have  introduced  yourself  as  the 
chief  official  of  this  island,  and  you  apologize 
for  not  returning  our  salute.  We  did  not  sa- 
lute. Cabotia  is  at  war  with  your  country.  I 
fired  a  solid  shot  across  the  bow  of  the  only 
moving  vessel  in  your  harbor,  and  I  have  bom- 
barded your  defences." 

The  Governor-General  stepped  back  in 
amazement.  "  At  war  with  my  mother- 
land !  "  he  exclaimed.  "  I  have  never  heard 
of  it !  It  is  incredible !  " 

"  I  do  not  wonder  that  you  have  never  heard 
of  it,"  said  the  Captain,  "  for  it  is  a  very  re- 
cent affair  and  it  is  not  likely  that  the  news 
could  reach  you  sooner.  But  you  know  it  now. 
We  are  at  war  with  your  mother-land,  and  I 
have  sailed  into  your  harbor  to  take  this  island 
and  raise  over  it  the  flag  of  Cabotia.  The  best 
thing  you  can  do  is  to  capitulate,  without  loss 
of  time." 

Senor  Gonzales  Proventura  y  Torado  drew 


THE  GOVERNOR- GENERAL  75 

himself  up  and  folded  his  arms.  "  Capitu- 
late !  "  he  exclaimed ;  "  capitulate  without 
striking  a  blow  for  the  honor  of  my  country, 
for  the  honor  of  my  flag,  for  my  own  honor! 
Never!  " 

It  was  now  the  Captain's  turn  to  be  sur- 
prised. "  Then  what  are  you  going  to  do? " 
he  asked.  "  You  decline  to  capitulate.  What 
then?" 

"  I  shall  fight,"  returned  the  Governor- 
General.  "  So  long  as  my  duty  calls  upon  me 
to  do  so  I  shall  defend  my  flag ;  I  shall  defend 
my  city;  I  shall  defend  my  honor." 

"  But  you  can't  fight,"  said  the  Captain. 
"  If  you  haven't  even  powder  enough  to  fire  a 
salute  or  shoot  a  parrot,  how  are  you  going  to 
defend  yourself  against  my  guns?  " 

The  Governor-General  bowed,  and  slightly 
raised  his  great  cocked  hat.  "  Your  Excel- 
lency," said  he,  "  you  are  a  noble  officer  of  a 
great  country;  I  am  sure  you  are  a  gentleman. 
If  a  gentleman  with  his  drawn  sword  in  his 
hand  meets  an  enemy  unarmed,  he  does  not 
plunge  the  blade  into  his  undefended  adver- 
sary. He  lowers  the  point  of  his  sword,  and 
requests  his  enemy  to  arm  himself  and  come 
on.  If  he  happens  to  be  provided  with  an  ex- 


76  THE  GOVERNOR-GENERAL 

tra  sword  he  presents  it  to  his  foe,  so  that  no 
time  may  be  lost.  Tour  Excellency  is  a  gen- 
tleman; you  will  not  deny  me  the  right  to  de- 
fend my  flag,  my  city,  and  my  honor;  you 
will  not  take  advantage  of  my  defenceless  posi- 
tion. You  will  lend  me  some  powder." 

The  Captain  turned  to  his  officers.  "  These 
people  will  not  capitulate,  and  it  will  be  a 
mean  thing  to  fire  on  them  when  they  have 
no  powder.  I  don't  suppose  they  could  use 
our  modern  charges  in  their  old-fashioned 
guns,  but  you  can  lower  a  boat  and  send  them 
that  barrel  of  loose  powder  in  the  magazine." 

The  eyes  of  the  Governor-General  were  suf- 
fused with  tears  of  gratitude.  A  barrel  of 
powder!  It  sounded  like  untold  wealth!  He 
removed  his  cocked  hat  entirely  from  his  head 
and  shook  hands  with  the  Captain  and  all  of 
his  officers. 

"  Gentlemen,"  said  he,  "  I  thank  you  from 
my  heart;  I  thank  you  for  myself;  I  thank 
you  for  my  mother-land.  I  will  go  to  my 
fort.  I  will  put  myself  at  the  head  of  my 
garrison.  I  will  defend  my  city,  my  honor, 
and  my  flag." 

"  All  right,"  said  the  Captain,  "  I  will  give 
you  an  hour  to  get  ready;  but  let  me  tell  you 


THE  GOVERNOR-GENERAL  77 

this,  when  you  think  it  is  time  to  capitulate 
haul  down  your  colors  and  send  a  real  flag  of 
truce  to  me.  If  that  darkey  had  sat  down 
while  you  were  coming  here  we  would  not 
have  thought  you  were  asking  for  a  truce,  and 
we  might  have  fired  on  you." 

The  noise  of  the  cannon  had  aroused  every- 
body; not  a  man  in  the  garrison  was  asleep, 
and  when  the  Governor-General  ordered  the 
drums  to  beat  to  quarters  the  soldiers  came 
running  from  every  direction.  There  were 
not  many 'of  them,  but  they  were  wildly  en- 
thusiastic when  they  heard  that  they  had  been 
furnished  with  powder  and  were  to  fight.  As 
rapidly  as  possible  everything  was  made  ready 
for  the  battle.  The  barrel  of  powder  was 
placed  in  a  central  position  in  the  fort  and  the 
Governor-General  stood  by  it,  issuing  his 
orders. 

There  were  several  mounted  cannon  in  the 
fort,  but  the  gunners  were  not  able  to  find 
many  balls,  and  those  they  did  collect  were 
small,  about  the  size  of  a  croquet  ball.  This 
made  it  impossible  to  use  the  two  large  guns 
of  the  castle. 

"  Never  mind!"  cried  the  Governor-Gen- 


78  THE  GOVERNOR-GENERAL 

eral.  "  The  small  guns  require  less  powder 
and  we  can  fire  more  frequently.  Every  man 
to  his  post !  The  hour  of  truce  has  nearly  ex- 
pired." 

Fiery  martial  commotion  filled  the  fort. 
The  garrison,  whose  gunnery  practice  had 
hitherto  been  confined  to  harmless  salutes, 
were  mad  with  delight  at  the  idea  that  they 
were  about  to  fire  solid  shot  upon  a  real  enemy, 
and  when  the  first  gun  from  the  ship  an- 
nounced the  termination  of  the  truce,  it  was 
almost  immediately  answered  by  three  shots 
from  the  fort. 

Now  loudly  roared  the  cannon,  on  water 
and  on  land,  and  the  people  of  the  town  ran 
up  and  down,  wildly  asking  each  other  what 
was  likely  to  happen  next. 

The  heavy  shot  and  shell  from  the  man-of- 
war  tore  away  great  masses  of  the  rock  on 
which  the  castle  stood,  but  none  of  them  pene- 
trated into  the  interior  of  the  fortification,  and 
the  guns  of  the  Mananian  stronghold  were 
served  with  an  alacrity  and  ardor  which  were 
surprising  in  gunners  who  were  in  the  habit 
of  spending  their  days  in  the  most  torpid  kind 
of  garrison  duty.  The  cannon  were  all  muz- 
zle-loaders, and  as  soon  as  one  was  discharged 


THE  GOVERNOR-GENERAL  79 

half  a  dozen  gunners  were  ready  to  thrust  into 
her  muzzle  a  fresh  charge  of  powder  and  an- 
other ball.  These  small  projectiles  flew  out 
over  the  water  as  if  some  one  had  been  shak- 
ing an  apple-tree  over  the  harbor.  Sometimes 
one  of  them  would  hit  the  side  of  the  protected 
cruiser,  and  in  these  cases  the  Second  Officer 
of  the  vessel,  who  was  a  wit,  always  facetiously 
remarked,  "  Come  in!  " 

Balls  and  shells  flew  backward  and  for- 
ward and  bits  of  rock  went  tumbling  and 
splashing  down  into  the  water;  clouds  of 
smoke  hung  over  the  castle  and  over  the  man- 
of-war,  and  the  townspeople  grew  more  and 
more  anxious,  for  they  could  perceive  no  signs 
of  victory  or  defeat,  on  their  own  side  or  on 
that  of  the  enemy. 

But  the  Governor-General  was  more  anxious 
than  anybody  else.  He  was  standing  by  the 
barrel  of  powder,  and  it  made  his  heart  sink  to 
see  how  rapidly  its  contents  were  diminishing. 
There  was  scarcely  a  quarter  of  the  powder 
left.  A  quarter  of  a  barrel  of  powder !  With 
that  he  could  go  out  with  his  gun  for  days  and 
weeks,  and  even  months;  with  that  he  could 
secure  all  the  parrots  he  needed  for  the  com- 
pletion of  the  model  of  his  great  chromatic 


80  THE  GOVERNOR-GENERAL 

scale ;  with  that  amount  of  powder,  life  would 
indeed  be  worth  living!  And  these  men  were 
scooping  it  up  and  ramming  it  into  the  cannon 
as  if  the  precious  grains  were  of  no  more  value 
than  the  dust  of  the  earth.  He  stooped  for- 
ward and  looked  at  the  cannon-balls  which 
had  been  gathered  together.  There  were  not 
many  of  them  left,  but  in  the  eyes  of  the  Gov- 
ernor-General there  were  entirely  too  many. 

Just  as  a  cannon  was  fired  and  as  the  gun- 
ners turned  away  their  faces  and  shut  their 
eyes,  the  Governor-General  kicked  three  of 
the  balls  into  a  small  gutter  which  opened  out- 
side the  walls,  and  they  dropped  down  the  cliff. 
He  would  have  been  glad  to  pick  up  the  rest 
of  them  and  put  them  in  his  pockets,  if  it  had 
been  possible. 

But  he  did  not  have  to  worry  long.  In  a 
few  minutes  the  last  little  ball  was  shot  out 
from  the  fort  and  fell  into  the  water  with  a 
splash  close  to  the  side  of  the  man-of-war. 

"  They  are  trying  to  knock  off  our  keel," 
said  the  facetious  Second  Officer. 

Now  the  heart  of  the  Governor-General  rose 
and  his  eyes  sparkled.  "  My  brave  men,"  he 
shouted,  "  we  have  done  our  duty,  we  have 
fought  for  the  honor  of  our  flag,  and  for  the 


THE  GOVERNOR-GENERAL  81 

honor  of  our  mother-land,  but  we  are  out  of 
ammunition.  We  have  no  more  balls  and  we 
must  submit' to  the  inevitable;  we  must  capit- 
ulate." And  as  he  said  these  words  he  cast 
his  eye  into  the  barrel  of  powder,  of  which  at 
least  one-fifth  remained. 

The  garrison  gathered  around  him  and 
shouted  in  indignation.  "  We  will  never  give 
up  the  fight,"  they  cried,  "  while  there  is  a 
drop  of  blood  in  our  veins !  " 

"  Blood  will  not  do!  "  shouted  the  Gover- 
nor-General in  return.  "  Balls  are  what  we 
want,  not  blood." 

"  And  balls  we  must  have!  "  cried  some  of 
the  men.  "  If  there  are  no  more  little  ones 
left,  perhaps  we  can  find  some  that  will  fit  the 
larger  cannon." 

The  Governor-General  trembled;  it  would 
be  a  dreadful  thing  if  they  should  really  find 
some  larger  balls. 

"  Be  careful  what  you  do !  "  he  shouted. 
"  One  of  the  big  cannon  has  a  great  crack  in 
it.  The  light  shines  into  the  inside  of  it." 

"  The  other  one  is  good,"  replied  one  of 
the  men ;  "  let  us  find  some  balls  for  it." 

In  a  very  short  time  some  of  the  men  came 
running  back,  carrying  balls  which  they  found 


82  THE  GOVERNOR-GENERAL 

lying  about  the  fort,  but  they  were  all  two  or 
three  sizes  too  large. 

"  I  knew  it!  "  cried  the  Governor-General. 
"  I  understand  the  conditions  of  our  muni- 
tions of  war.  We  can  fire  no  more  of  our  guns. 
It  is  absolutely  necessary  that  we  capitulate 
immediately,  otherwise  the  enemy  will  begin 
to  shell  the  town.  Think  of  our  wives,  our 
children,"  and  in  his  heart  the  Governor-Gen- 
eral added,  "  our  stuffed  birds." 

The  men  turned  sullenly  away  and  began  to 
roll  cigarettes;  of  course  they  could  not  fight 
without  balls  to  fit  their  cannon.  But  there 
was  a  young  fellow,  named  Bartolomo  Lar- 
risda,  who  would  not  give  the  fight  up  so 
easily. 

"  I  believe  I  can  find  balls  to  fit  that 
gun!"  he  cried.  "There  must  be  some, 
somewhere!  "  and  away  he  ran. 

The  Governor-General  frowned  and  called 
to  the  young  man  to  come  back,  but  the  latter 
did  not  hear  him. 

"  Fool!  "  ejaculated  Seiior  Proventura,  "  he 
will  ruin  everything,"  and  as  he  spoke  he 
fiercely  thrust  his  hands  into  his  pockets.  In 
one  of  them  he  felt  the  nightcap.  "  Ha !  " 
he  said  to  himself,  "  this  will  do,"  and  looking 


THE  GOVERNOR-GENERAL  83 

about  to  see  that  lie  was  not  observed,  he  thrust 
his  nightcap  into  the  muzzle  of  the  one  good 
gun,  and  with  a  rammer  he  pushed  it  home. 
"  Now  then,"  said  he  to  himself,  "  he  cannot 
fire  off  that  cannon,  even  if  he  finds  a  ball  to 
fit." 

Having  said  this,  he  hurried  out  of  the  fort 
and  down  to  the  place  where  he  had  left  his 
boat.  He  took  with  him  a  small  table-cloth 
which  he  had  snatched  from  one  of  the  living- 
rooms  of  the  fort,  and  this,  tied  to  a  pole,  was 
waved  high  in  the  air,  whereupon  the  cannon- 
ading from  the  man-of-war,  which  had  become 
infrequent  since  it  was  not  returned  by  the 
fort,  now  ceased  altogether. 

The  boat  of  the  Governor-General  was 
rowed  rapidly  to  the  man-of-war,  and  he  soon 
stood  upon  the  quarter-deck.  Advancing  to 
the  Captain,  he  drew  his  sword  from  his  scab- 
bard and  held  it  in  front  of  him,  hilt  first,  and 
said: 

"  Your  Excellency,  I  surrender.  We  are 
out  of "  he  was  about  to  say  "  cannon- 
balls,"  but  he  thought  it  wiser  to  make  an 
amendment  and  said,  "  ammunition.  We  can 
fire  no  more.  Our  honor  is  satisfied.  That  is 
the  great  thing.  El  Mono  capitulates.  The 


84  THE  GOVERNOR-GENERAL 

town  of  Ruta  capitulates.  The  island  of 
Mariana,  with  the  neighboring  islets,  all  capit- 
ulate. Accept  my  sword." 

The  Captain  waved  back  the  proffered 
weapon.  "  You  can  keep  that,"  he  said,  "  but 
I  will  take  the  rest.  I  will  go  ashore  to  hoist 
the  Cabotian  flag  above  your  fort.  What  is 
the  size  of  your  garrison  ?  " 

This  question  puzzled  the  Governor-Gen- 
eral. It  had  been  some  time  since  he  had 
heard  roll-call,  or  given  any  thought  to  the 
subject,  but  it  was  necessary  to  make  an  an- 
swer which  would  not  belittle  his  position  as 
first  official  of  the  colony,  and  therefore  he 
said: 

"  One  hundred  and  forty-five  men,  your 
Excellency." 

"What!"  cried  the  Captain,  "I  did  not 
suppose  that  you  had  as  many  men  as  that. 
Mr.  Mannering,"  he  continued,  addressing  the 
First  Officer,  "  did  you  hear  that?  One  hun- 
dred and  forty-five  soldiers  in  the  garrison. 
What  could  we  do  with  so  many  prisoners?  " 

"  I  don't  know,  sir,"  was  the  reply.  "  We 
could  not  accommodate  them  upon  this  ship." 

The  Governor-General  listened  in  wonder. 
"  Does  your  Excellency  mean,"  said  he,  "  that 


THE  GOVERNOR-GENERAL  85 

you  are  going  to  carry  away  our  soldiers  as 
prisoners!  " 

"  I  have  planned  to  take  you  all,  the  officials 
of  the  town  and  your  officers  and  soldiers,  as 
prisoners  of  war  and  to  carry  you  away  with 
me,  leaving  behind  some  one  commissioned 
by  me  as  temporary  Governor-General,  acting 
under  the  authority  of  the  Cabotian  Govern- 
ment. But  your  number  embarrasses  me.  I 
did  not  suppose  you  had  so  many  men." 

To  be  carried  away!  The  Governor-Gen- 
eral turned  pale.  He  had  never  thought  of 
anything  of  that  sort.  It  was  bad  enough  to 
be  obliged  to  change  flags,  but  if  he  were 
forced  to  leave  his  home,  his  family,  the  fifth 
of  a  barrel  of  gunpowder,  and  all  the  stuffed 
parrots  in  the  corridor,  as  well  as  those  still 
flying  freely  in  the  woods,  it  would  be  terrible 
indeed.  But  he  did  not  lose  hope. 

"  Your  Excellency,"  he  said,  "  we  have 
truly  a  large  garrison  in  the  castle,  and  besides, 
there  is  the  garrison  of  the  inland  battery, 
above  the  town." 

"More  men!"  cried  the  Captain.  "And 
how  many  officers  and  men  are  in  that  garri- 
son, I  should  like  to  know?  " 

"  I  should  say,"  replied  the  Governor-Gen- 


86  THE  GOVERNOR-GENERAL 

eral,  "  that,  excluding  the  sick  in  the  hospitals, 
there  must  be  sixty  men  and  officers,  all  told, 
in  the  garrison  of  the  inland  battery." 

The  Captain  clapped  his  forehead.  "  Two 
hundred  and  five  men !  "  said  he.  "  Mr.  Man- 
neriug,  how  are  we  to  accommodate  them  \  " 

Bartolomo  Larrisda  was  a  young  man  of 
energetic  loyalty;  he  did  not  know  that  the 
Governor-General  had  rowed  away  under  a 
flag  of  truce;  he  knew  nothing  except  that 
somewhere  there  must  be  some  balls  that  would 
fit  that  large  gun,  and  with  which  the  fight 
for  the  honor  of  his  flag  and  his  mother-land 
might  be  continued.  At  last  he  found  a  ball 
which  looked  to  be  the  right  size.  Only  one, 
but  with  it  he  ran  to  the  gun.  One  shot,  well 
directed,  might  explode  the  enemy's  magazine. 

Bartolomo  tried  the  ball  and  to  his  delight 
he  found  that  it  would  go  into  the  muzzle  of 
the  cannon.  In  fact,  it  was  a  trifle  too  small, 
and  as  he  was  about  to  remove  it  from  the 
muzzle,  preparatory  to  putting  in  a  charge  of 
powder,  the  smooth  ball  slipped  from  his  ner- 
vous fingers  and  rolled  down  into  the  cannon, 
which  was  somewhat  elevated,  and  did  not  stop 
until  it  rested  safely  against  the  nightcap  of 
the  Governor-General,  at  the  very  bottom  of 
the  bore. 


THE  GOVERNOR-GENERAL  87 

Bartolomo  was  horrified;  with  a  great  deal 
of  trouble  he  lowered  the  muzzle  of  the  can- 
non, but  the  ball  would  not  roll  out,  for  it  was 
jammed  by  the  nightcap.  The  young  man 
tore  his  hair  and  beat  the  cannon  with  the 
rammer,  but  the  concussion  did  not  loosen  the 
ball.  For  a  moment  he  stood  in  despair  and 
then  he  gave  a  spring  toward  the  barrel  of 
powder,  which  he  picked  up  and  placed  close 
to  the  gun. 

"  Ha !  "  he  exclaimed,  "  I  may  load  it  yet. 
I  will  pour  powder  into  the  touch-hole  until 
there  is  enough  behind  the  ball  to  enable  me 
to  make  this  last  shot  for  the  honor  of  my  flag 
and  my  mother-land." 

Frantically  he  poured  the  powder  into  the 
touch-hole,  ramming  it  in  with  a  piece  of  wire, 
wriggling  the  wire  so  as  to  make  more  room 
inside,  and  pouring  in  more  and  more  powder, 
until  finally  he  believed  he  had  enough  to 
make  his  last  great  shot,  by  which,  perchance, 
he  might  explode  the  magazine  of  the  insolent 
enemy. 

Dashing  into  an  adjoining  casemate  he 
snatched  a  live  cigarette  from  the  mouth  of  a 
comrade  and  in  two  seconds  had  touched  off 
the  cannon. 


88  THE  GOVERNOR-GENERAL 

"  It  is  true,  sir,"  said  the  First  Officer  of  the 
man-of-war  to  his  Captain,  "  there  is  no  room 
here  for  two  hundred  and  five  men.  We 
might  as  well  try  to  ship  another  crew." 

At  this  moment  there  was  the  report  of  a 
cannon.  It  came  from  the  fort.  It  was  not  a 
very  loud  report,  but  everybody  jumped,  and 
all  eyes  were  directed  toward  El  Morro.  A 
cannon-ball  was  seen  coming  through  the  air. 
It  came  so  slowly  that  it  was  perfectly  easy 
to  observe  it.  It  moved  in  a  great  arc  over  the 
harbor  and  then  began  slowly  to  descend.  It 
came  directly  toward  the  quarter-deck  of  the 
man-of-war. 

"  Look  out !  "  cried  the  captain  of  the  watch. 
Everybody  looked  out,  and  when  the  ball  ap- 
proached the  deck  they  all  stepped  back  out  of 
its  way.  It  struck  not  three  feet  from  where 
the  Governor-General  had  been  standing. 

The  Captain's  face  was  as  red  as  fire. 
"  What  is  the  meaning  of  this  ?  "  he  shouted. 
"  What  vile  treachery  have  you  been  hatch- 
ing? You  fly  a  flag  of  truce;  you  surrender; 
and  then  your  fort  fires  upon  us !  " 

The  Governor-General  did  not  immediately 
answer;  his  eyes  were  fixed  upon  the  cannon- 
ball  which  lay  in  the  middle  of  the  deck.  He 
advanced  toward  it  and  raised  it  in  his  hand. 


THE  GOVERNOR-GENERAL  89 

"  Your  Excellency,"  said  he,  to  the  Cap- 
tain, "  do  not  condemn  me;  do  not  be  indig- 
nant. There  is  no  harm  done,  there  was  none 
intended.  You  see  this  nightcap  which  par- 
tially envelops  the  ball?  It  is  my  nightcap, 
which  I  always  should  put  on  when  I  remove 
my  hat  of  state.  This  great  hat  makes  my 
head  hot,  and  when  I  take  it  off  I  am  in  danger 
of  catching  cold  if  I  do  not  put  on  something 
else.  My  wife  urged  me  to  take  this  cap  with 
me  to-day,  and  as  I  forgot  it  she  has  thought- 
fully sent  it  after  me  in  this  fashion.  There 
was  no  other  way.  Your  Excellency,  she  has 
ordered  one  of  the  gunners  to  forward  it  with 
a  very  light  charge  of  powder." 

"  A  dangerous  conjugal  attention,"  said  the 
Captain,  his  face  recovering  its  natural  brown. 
"  It  was  a  pretty  good  shot,  though,  I  must 
say.  It  came  nearer  to  you  than  to  anybody 
else,  and  even  if  you  had  not  moved,  it  would 
not  have  hit  you." 

"  Aye,  your  Excellency,"  said  the  Gover- 
nor-General, putting  on  the  nightcap,  for  it 
was  impossible  for  him  to  seem  to  slight  the 
affectionate  attention  of  Senora  Proventura, 
"  my  wife  is  a  most  considerate  woman.  She 
never  forgets  my  health,  and  she  doubtless 


90  THE  GOVERNOR-GENERAL 

selected  the  most  careful  gunner  to  send  me 
this  nightcap." 

At  this  moment  luncheon  was  announced, 
and  as  everybody  was  hungry  the  conference 
was  suspended,  and  the  Governor-General  was 
invited  to  step  below  and  join  the  Captain's 
mess.  The  invitation  was  most  gladly  ac- 
cepted, and  the  Governor's  boat  was  sent  back 
to  inform  his  lady  that  he  would  take  his  mid- 
day meal  on  the  man-of-war. 

The  Governor-General  made  a  very  fine 
meal.  He  drank  good  wine,  and  the  cigar 
which  he  afterward  smoked,  sitting  in  a  com- 
fortable chair  on  the  deck  with  the  Captain 
and  some  of  the  other  officers,  was  of  remark- 
able fragrance.  Tobacco  grew  on  Mariana, 
but  the  island  produced  nothing  like  this. 

"  It  comes  from  some  of  our  other  colonies," 
thought  the  Governor-General,  "  but  it  is  only 
through  the  foreigners  that  we  have  it  here." 

"  Now  then,"  said  the  Captain,  puffing  a 
cloud  of  smoke  toward  the  flag  of  his  country, 
which  was  gently  waving  in  the  breeze  from 
Pruga,  "  we  might  as  well  arrange  the  terms 
of  surrender.  I  have  taken  two  hundred  and 
five  prisoners,  besides  yourself  and  the  officers 
of  the  town.  Now  we  must  decide  what  to  do 


THE  GOVERNOR-GENERAL  91 

with  you.  You  must  be  taken  away,  in  some 
manner  or  other." 

"  Of  course,"  said  the  Second  Officer,  u  if 
we  take  prisoners  and  don't  take  them,  of 
course  we  haven't  taken  them." 

"  Very  good,"  remarked  the  Captain,  and 
they  all  laughed.  "  That  brings  us  to  the 
next  point,"  he  continued — "  how  are  we  go- 
ing to  take  them?  One  thing  is  certain — I 
shall  not  stuff  them  into  this  ship." 

"  May  I  ask,  your  Excellency,"  interrupted 
the  Governor-General,  "  to  what  place  you 
propose  to  take  your  prisoners,  when  you  do 
take  them? " 

"  I  don't  know  about  that,"  answered  the 
Captain ;  "  the  main  thing  is  to  get  you  all 
away  from  here.  When  a  place  is  captured,  its 
garrison  and  municipal  officers  must  be  re- 
moved. That  is  one  of  the  principles  of  war, 
and  we  can't  get  around  it.  If  there  were  a 
merchant  vessel  in  this  port  I  would  put  you 
all  into  it  and  send  you  somewhere,  probably 
to  your  own  country,  for  I  am  sure  you  would 
not  be  wanted  in  mine ;  but  the  main  point,  as 
I  have  said,  is  to  get  you  away  from  here." 

"  Yes,  your  Excellency,"  said  the  Governor- 
General,  "  I  understand  perfectly.  But  there 


92  THE  GOVERNOR-GENERAL 

is  no  ship  in  port,  and  no  vessel  larger  than  our 
ferry-boat,  and  that  is  a  very  little  one." 

"  It  seems  to  me,  Mr.  Mannering,"  said  the 
Captain,  addressing  his  First  Officer,  "  that 
the  only  thing  we  can  do  is  to  leave  these  pris- 
oners here  for  the  present  and  to  send  a  trans- 
port for  them  as  soon  as  possible.  They  can 
then  be  taken  to  their  own  country  and  we 
shall  have  no  further  trouble  with  them  is 
plain." 

"  Yes,"  said  the  First  Officer,  "  I  see  noth- 
ing else  to  do  but  that." 

"  Your  Excellency,"  the  Governor  now 
asked,  "  how  long  do  you  suppose  it  will  be 
before  we  could  expect  a  ship  which  would 
carry  us  away? " 

The  Captain  shook  his  head  and  looked  at 
Mr.  Mannering.  The  latter  began  to  count 
on  his  fingers. 

"  Three  weeks  to  port,"  he  said,  "  a  week  to 
telegraph  and  make  arrangements,  five  weeks 
for  the  transport  to  reach  this  island,  two  weeks 
for  unavoidable  delays.  That  makes,  let  me 
see,  eleven  weeks." 

The  Governor-General  sat  for  a  few  mo- 
ments and  thought.  "  And  what  shall  be 
done  with  your  prisoners  in  the  mean  time, 


THE  GOVERNOR-GENERAL  93 

your  Excellency  ?  "  he  asked.  "  Of  course 
they  must  be  fed." 

"  Without  doubt,"  said  the  Captain;  "  that 
is  understood.  They  are  prisoners  of  my 
country,  my  country  will  take  care  of  them. 
I  will  leave  rations  for  them  until  they  are  sent 
for.  And,  by  the  way,  I  must  appoint  some 
one  to  take  charge  here.  Is  there  a  naturalized 
Cabotian  on  the  island?  " 

The  Governor-General  shook  his  head. 
"  ]STo,  your  Excellency,"  said  he,  "  there  is  not 
one.  In  fact,  there  are  but  very  few  of  us 
who  can  even  speak  your  language.  But  if 
I  might  be  allowed  to  offer  a  suggestion " 

"  Certainly,"  interrupted  the  Captain;  "  I 
shall  be  glad  to  hear  it." 

"  Well,  then,  your  Excellency,"  said  the 
Governor,  "  if  it  will  help  you  out  of  your  dif- 
ficulty I  am  perfectly  willing  to  be  naturalized. 
I  speak  your  language,  and  now  that  this  island 
belongs  to  your  country,  and  as  it  is  necessary 
to  find  some  one  to  take  temporary  charge  of 
affairs,  I  am  ready  to  do  whatever  is  needed  to 
make  me  a  naturalized  Cabotian." 

"  That's  not  a  bad  idea,"  said  the  Captain 
to  Mr.  Mannering.  "  He  can  keep  the  people 
in  order  better  than  anybody  else  and  there 


94  THE  GOVERNOR-GENERAL 

will  be  no  rupture,  no  strain.  I  am  in  favor  of 
his  plan." 

"  Yes,"  said  the  First  Officer,  "  I  think  that 
would  work  very  well,  but  I  don't  know  that 
we  have  the  authority  to  naturalize  him.  I 
suppose,  however,  we  might  make  him  a 
brevet-citizen,  just  for  a  time,  you  know." 

"  Very  good,"  said  the  Captain,  rising,  "  we 
will  settle  it  that  way.  He  can  retain  his  offi- 
cers, and  things  will  go  on  smoothly  and  com- 
fortably. And  now,  Mr.  Governor,  I  am 
going  to  take  a  little  nap.  About  five  o'clock, 
when  the  day  is  cooler,  I'll  go  over  to  the  fort 
to  receive  the  surrender  of  your  prisoners,  and 
I  will  also  go  to  the  town  to  raise  the  flag  of 
Cabotia  upon  your  principal  building,  what- 
ever it  may  be.  Until  then,  I  will  bid  you  a 
very  good-afternoon." 

The  Governor-General  rose,  took  off  his 
nightcap,  put  on  his  plumed  hat  of  state,  shook 
hands  all  around  and  departed  in  his  boat, 
which  had  returned  for  him. 

He  had  no  time  to  lose.  He  had  surren- 
dered two  garrisons  of  two  hundred  and  five 
men,  and  where  was  he  to  find  those  men  ?  He 
was  rowed  first  to  the  fort.  The  garrison  was 
hastily  gathered  together  and  counted.  In- 


THE  GOVERNOR-GENERAL  95 

eluding  those  who  had  gone  to  town  for  their 
luncheon  and  had  not  yet  returned,  and  even 
reckoning  the  laborers  who  worked  in  the  cas- 
tle garden,  the  waiters,  and  a  man  who  had  a 
license  to  sell  candy  and  cake  to  the  soldiers, 
there  were  exactly  seventy-three  men  belong- 
ing to  the  fort.  But  the  Governor  was  not 
daunted;  he  called  his  Lieutenant. 

"  Seiior  Hernandez,"  said  he,  "  I  want,  in- 
stantly, seventy-two  men.  I  have  surrendered 
one  hundred  and  forty-five  members  of  this 
garrison,  and  we  are  seventy-two  short.  Go 
bring  them  in  quickly.  Take  a  file  of  soldiers 
with  bayonets.  Anybody  will  do  to  help  make 
up  the  garrison.  We  must  have  them  quickly. 
The  Cabotian  Captain  will  be  here  by  five 
o'clock.  Take  shopkeepers,  carpenters,  cooks, 
any  one  you  please.  If  they  have  shirts  and 
trousers,  that's  enough.  There  are  a  lot  of  old 
military  caps  in  the  fort;  clap  one  on  every 
man  jack  of  them.  All  our  soldiers  cannot  be 
expected  to  wear  their  uniforms  in  this  hot 
weather.  As  for  arms,  divide  them  up  as  well 
as  you  can.  If  there  are  not  enough  to  go 
around,  give  one  fellow  a  sword  and  another  a 
scabbard,  and  if  you  can't  do  any  better,  serve 
out  the  curiosities  in  the  museum,  stone  hatch- 


96  THE  GOVERNOR-GENERAL 

ets  and  all.  They  can't  expect  that  we  have 
only  modern  arms  in  this  island.  Now  I  must 
hurry  away  and  see  the  Alcalde  and  the  Ad- 
jutant-General. And  mind  you,  Hernandez, 
this  garrison  must  number  one  hundred  and 
forty-five  by  five  o'clock." 

When  the  Governor-General  reported  the 
terms  of  surrender  of  the  town  and  the  forces, 
the  citizens  were  much  agitated  of  course,  but 
the  Governor-General's  words,  as  he  addressed 
them  in  the  Plaza,  were  very  encouraging. 

"  My  people!  "  he  shouted,  "  there  is  noth- 
ing to  fear.  Very  little  will  be  changed.  To- 
morrow, everything  will  go  on  as  well  as  it  did 
yesterday,  if  not  better." 

Continuing,  he  said:  "This  afternoon  the 
Cabotian  flag  will  be  raised  in  this  town  and  on 
the  castle,  and  in  return  for  this  privilege  the 
Cabotians  will  land  a  large  amount  of  stores, 
not  only  canned  goods  of  many  varieties,  but 
flour,  coffee,  sugar,  salt  meat,  potatoes,  and 
many  other  things.  The  man-of-war  will  then 
depart,  and  if  she  should  be  overtaken  by  a 
typhoon  before  she  reaches  her  destination 
there  will  be  no  report  of  the  capture  of  this 
town.  My  friends,  be  calm;  we  have  our 
honor  and  the  stores  I  have  mentioned." 


THE  GOVERNOR-GENERAL  97 

At  five  o'clock  the  Captain  of  the  man-of- 
war,  accompanied  by  a  party  of  officers,  was 
rowed  to  El  Morro.  At  the  landing-place  they 
were  met  by  the  Governor-General,  who  ac- 
companied them  up  to  the  fort.  There  they 
found  the  garrison  drawn  up  in  two  long  lines 
to  receive  them,  those  wearing  uniforms  and 
with  the  best  arms  in  the  front  rank.  The 
Governor  glanced  along  the  lines. 

"  Heavens !  "  he  whispered  to  the  officer  in 
command,  "  three  of  those  in  the  second  line 
are  women." 

"  It  could  not  be  helped,  your  Excellency," 
said  the  officer;  "  three  men  got  away  and  we 
had  to  clap  in  these  women  who  were  bringing 
yams  to  the  fort.  We  put  military  caps  on 
them,  you  see,  and  they  each  have  a  ramrod." 

The  garrison  was  counted  and  the  number 
of  prisoners  found  to  be  correct.  But  the  three 
women  were  noticed. 

"  Hello !  "  cried  the  Cabotian  Captain. 
"  What  is  the  meaning  of  this?  " 

"  Your  Excellency,"  said  the  Governor- 
General  with  a  bow,  "  those  are  vivandieres; 
very  necessary  for  the  refreshment  of  the 
troops  in  this  hot  climate." 

The  Captain  nodded.    "  All  right,"  said  he. 


98  THE  GOVERNOR-GENERAL 

"  Hoist  our  flag  over  the  fort,  and  then  we  will 
proceed  to  the  town." 

When  the  Captain  and  his  party,  with  the 
Governor-General,  were  rowed  to  the  town, 
they  were  joined  by  a  file  of  marines  from  the 
ship,  and  all  proceeded  to  the  town  hall. 
There  the  Cabotian  flag  was  raised,  a  salute 
was  fired,  and  the  Captain,  in  the  name  of 
Cabotia,  took  possession  of  the  town,  the  island 
and  the  neighboring  islets. 

"  Now  then,"  said  he,  when  the  ceremonies 
had  been  concluded,  "  how  about  that  inland 
battery  you  spoke  of.  Where  is  it?  " 

These  words  sent  dismay  to  the  heart  of  the 
Governor-General.  He  had  been  thinking 
about  that  battery  and  hoping  that  no  present 
reference  would  be  made  to  it.  He  had  not 
visited  it  for  a  long  time  and  knew  very  little 
about  it  except  that  it  did  not  contain  anything 
like  a  garrison  of  sixty  men. 

"  Your  Excellency,"  said  he,  "  it  is  a  long 
way  up  to  that  battery  and  I  would  suggest  the 
postponing  of  the  reception  of  its  surrender 
until  to-morrow  morning.  I  hope  that  you 
and  your  officers  will  now  accept  the  poor  hos- 
pitality of  my  official  residence,  and  I  crave 
the  honor  of  presenting  you  to  my  wife  and 
daughters." 


THE  GOVERNOR-GENERAL  99 

There  was  a  gay  time  in  the  town  that  even- 
ing. There  was  a  dinner  and  a  dance  at  the 
Governor-General's  house,  and  the  example 
thus  set  by  the  official  head  of  the  colony  was 
cheerfully  followed  by  many  of  the  citizens. 

In  the  course  of  the  evening  the  Governor- 
General  withdrew  himself  from  his  company, 
and  wrote  a  note  to  the  officer  in  command  of 
the  castle  and  sent  it  by  a  fleet-footed  mes- 
senger. It  was  to  this  effect: 

"  At  daybreak  to-morrow  march  sixty  of 
your  best-equipped  men  to  the  dell  behind  the 
inland  battery.  There  they  will  await  my 
orders.  PROVENTURA  Y  TORADO." 

Early  the  next  morning  the  Governor-Gen- 
eral walked  up  the  hill  and  there  he  found 
the  sixty  men  from  the  fort,  smoking  cigarettes 
at  the  place  appointed.  Leaving  them,  he  re- 
paired to  the  battery,  where  he  was  received 
with  all  due  military  etiquette  by  the  officer  in 
command.  Major  Cascaro,  a  true  soldier  of 
his  mother-land,  was  a  medium-sized  man,  very 
lean,  very  erect,  very  punctilious.  He  had  a 
long  nose  with  nostrils  like  wings,  and  under 
this  nose  was  a  mustache  of  such  size  and 


100  THE  GOVERNOR-GENERAL 

density  that  it  looked  as  if  it  had  been  punched 
into  place,  a  little  at  a  time,  until  a  great  mass 
of  it  had  been  securely  adjusted. 

"  Major,"  said  the  Governor-General,  "  you 
must  prepare,  as  rapidly  as  possible,  to  sur- 
render this  fortification  with  its  garrison.  Offi- 
cers from  the  Cabotian  man-of-war  may  arrive 
here  at  any  moment." 

The  Major  stared  fixedly  at  the  Governor- 
General.  "  Your  Excellency,"  said  he,  "  what 
have  I  to  do  with  the  officers  of  the  Cabotian 
man-of-war? " 

"  You  have  to  surrender  to  them,"  said  the 
Governor-General,  "  and  the  quicker  you  pre- 
pare for  it,  the  better." 

The  Major  drew  out  the  ends  of  his  mus- 
tache and  folded  his  arms. 

"  Your  Excellency,"  said  he,  "  I  was  ap- 
pointed to  command  this  fortification  and 
thereby  prevent  the  wild  natives  from  intrud- 
ing upon  the  town.  It  is  true  that  all  these 
natives  have  disappeared,  but  that  makes  no 
difference.  The  command  has  been  entrusted 
to  me  by  the  crown  of  my  mother-land.  I 
shall  hold  it  until  that  crown  shall  request  me 
to  give  it  up.  I  have  heard  the  firings  and 
the  cannonadings  and  I  have  seen  the  flag-rais- 


THE  GOVERNOR-GENERAL  101 

ings,  but  all  that  is  nothing  to  me.  I  have 
nothing  to  do  with  the  forces  of  Cabotia,  and 
I  will  not  surrender  to  them." 

"  Well,  then,"  impatiently  cried  the  Gov- 
ernor-General, "  surrender  to  me.  It  does  not 
make  any  difference  to  whom  you  surrender." 

"  Your  Excellency,"  said  the  Major,  "  I  do 
not  surrender  to  an  enemy,  still  more  firmly 
do  I  decline  to  surrender  to  a  friend." 

"  Look  here,  Major,"  said  the  Governor- 
General,  more  impatiently,  "  we  are  spending 
too  much  time  in  talk.  How  many  men  have 
you  in  this  battery?  " 

"  Twelve,"  said  the  Major,  "  besides  my- 
self." 

"  Any  officers  under  you?  " 

"  Not  at  present,"  said  the  Major.  "  There 
were  some  assigned  to  this  post,  but  I  fill  their 
positions  myself." 

"  And  draw  their  salaries?  "  asked  the  Gov- 
ernor-General. 

"  Of  course,"  said  the  Major,  "  as  I  take 
their  places." 

"  Now  listen  to  me,"  said  the  Governor- 
General  ;  "  the  whole  colony  has  capitulated, 
including  this  battery  with  a  garrison  of  sixty 
men.  I  have  prepared  for  all  emergencies.  I 


102  THE  GOVERNOR-GENERAL 

have  sixty  soldiers  from  the  castle,  waiting 
down  here  in  the  dell.  If  you  choose  you  may 
have  forty-eight  of  those  men  to  add  to  your 
garrison  and  may  surrender  them  as  a  whole. 
If  you  do  not  choose,  I  will  pack  your  fellows 
off  into  the  woods  and  surrender  the  forti- 
fication myself,  with  the  men  from  the  castle. 
There  must  be  sixty  men  surrendered  from  this 
spot  in  less  than  half  an  hour.  I  see  now  a 
boat  putting  off  from  the  ship." 

The  Major  looked  at  the  Governor-General. 
"  Your  Excellency,"  said  he,  "  what  are  the 
terms  of  surrender? " 

"  Rations  for  all  prisoners  of  war  until  a 
ship  can  be  sent  to  take  them  to  their  native 
land." 

"Pay  for  the  officers  during  that  time?" 
the  Major  asked. 

"  Certainly,  that  is  understood,  of  course." 

"  What  is  the  usual  rank  of  officers  com- 
manding a  fortress  of  Cabotia  ? "  asked  the 
Major. 

"  A  colonel,  I  should  say,"  was  the  answer; 
"  surely  no  lower  than  that." 

"  With  the  usual  officers  under  him?  " 

"  Of  course,"  said  the  Governor-General; 
"  that  goes  without  saying." 


THE  GOVERNOR-GENERAL  103 

"  Your  Excellency,"  said  Major  Cascaro, 
"  I  will  surrender.  Will  you  kindly  send  me 
your  forty -eight  men." 

That  morning,  when  the  Captain  of  the 
man-of-war  went  on  deck  he  stretched  himself 
and  yawned. 

"  We  were  up  pretty  late  last  night,  Mr. 
Mannering,"  he  said,  "  and  I  must  say  I  don't 
want  to  go  to  receive  the  surrender  of  that 
little  battery.  Send  the  officers  who  were  in 
charge  of  the  vessel  yesterday.  It  is  fair  that 
they  also  should  have  a  little  skip  on  shore." 

The  remainder  of  that  day  was  spent  in 
landing  stores.  As  far  as  it  was  possible,  cloth- 
ing was  humanely  issued  to  the  prisoners.  The 
Governor-General  spent  most  of  his  time  on 
the  deck  of  the  man-of-war,  for  it  was  neces- 
sary for  him  to  have  frequent  conferences  with 
the  Captain. 

Among  the  things  which  might  have  been 
overlooked,  had  it  not  been  for  his  thoughtful 
suggestion,  was  the  necessity  of  leaving  money 
for  the  pay  of  the  officials  who  were  to  have 
charge  of  the  prisoners  and  the  captured  town. 
There  were  other  things  which  were  not  for- 
gotten by  the  prudent  Governor-General. 
Among  so  many  prisoners,  medicine  would 


104  THE  GOVERNOR-GENERAL 

probably  be  necessary,  and  lie  hinted  that  it 
would  not  be  wise  to  leave  an  entire  colony 
without  any  powder  suitable  for  fowling- 
pieces  and  ordinary  domestic  defence.  If  there 
happened  to  be  any  powder  left  from  the 
former  generous  gift,  it  was  really  best  suited 
for  artillery  and  barely  enough  for  the  firing 
of  a  salute  when  the  transport  should  arrive 
to  take  the  garrison  home. 

All  these  suggestions  were  favorably  re- 
ceived by  the  Captain,  and  he  was  so  willing 
to  be  just  as  well  as  generous  that  when  the 
Governor-General  mentioned  the  case  of  an 
elderly  female  whose  family  residence  had 
been  destroyed  by  the  bombardment  on  the 
previous  day,  and  who  was  now  obliged  to  live 
in  the  open  air,  the  Captain  ordered  the  pay- 
master to  put  into  the  hands  of  the  Governor- 
General  sufficient  coin  to  enable  this  unfortu- 
nate sufferer  to  erect  a  moderate-sized  dwell- 
ing, with  kitchen  and  other  desirable  out- 
buildings. 

Late  in  the  afternoon  the  man-of-war 
weighed  anchor  and  steamed  out  of  the  harbor, 
and,  as  she  passed  over  the  bar,  the  man  at  the 
lead  noticed  that  she  drew  considerably  less 
water  than  when  she  went  in. 


THE  GOVERNOR-GENERAL  105 

It  was  many  months  after  the  occurrences 
above  narrated  that  the  Governor-General  of 
Mariana  stood  on  the  edge  of  a  forest  in  the 
southern  part  of  the  island.  It  was  a  lovely 
day,  but  though  the  waters  of  the  encircling 
Pacific  were  warm,  the  breezes  which  came 
over  from  the  neighboring  islet  of  Aribo  were 
cool  and  odorous  with  the  fragrance  from 
many  an  aromatic  tree  and  shrub.  There  were 
no  inhabitants  on  the  islet  of  Aribo  and  it 
seemed  to  exist  solely  for  the  purpose  of  fur- 
nishing fragrance  to  the  island  of  Manana 
when  the  winds  blew  from  the  southeast. 

The  soul  of  the  Governor-General  was  sad ; 
he  had  just  fired  his  last  charge  of  powder  at 
a  parrot  and  missed  it,  and  his  chromatic  scale, 
although  nearly  finished,  still  needed  two  or 
three  birds. 

The  rations  left  by  the  Cabotian  Captain 
had  long  since  been  consumed.  The  money 
for  the  officials'  salaries  had  all  been  paid  out, 
no  transport  had  entered  the  harbor  of  Ruta, 
and  the  people  of  the  little  colony  believed 
that  they  had  been  forgotten. 

The  Governor-General  felt  assured  that 
peace  between  his  mother-land  and  Cabotia 
must  have  been  completed,  for  no  nation  could 


106  THE  GOVERNOR-GENERAL 

stand  up  long  before  the  valor  of  the  people 
of  his  blood,  but  he  feared  that  in  the  confu- 
sion and  bustle  of  the  necessary  negotiations, 
his  colony  had  been  totally  overlooked  both 
by  the  victors  and  the  vanquished. 

He  seated  himself  on  a  little  rock  and  gazed 
out  over  the  sea.  His  days  of  prosperity  were 
past;  like  Alexander,  he  sighed;  there  were 
no  other  worlds  to  conquer  him! 


OLD  APPLEJOY'S  GHOST 


OLD  APPLEJOY'S  GHOST 

THE  large  and  commodious  apartments  in 
the  upper  part  of  the  old  Applejoy  man- 
sion were  occupied  exclusively,  at  the  time  of 
our  story,  by  the  ghost  of  the  grandfather  of 
the  present  owner  of  the  estate. 

For  many,  many  years  old  Applejoy's  ghost 
had  been  in  the  habit  of  wandering  freely 
about  the  grand  old  house  and  the  fine  estate 
of  which  he  had  once  been  the  lord  and  master, 
but  early  in  that  spring  a  change  had  come 
over  the  household  of  his  grandson,  John  Ap- 
plejoy,  an  elderly  man  and  a  bachelor,  a  lover 
of  books,  and — for  the  later  portion  of  his  life 
— almost  a  recluse.  A  young  girl,  his  niece 
Bertha,  had  come  to  live  with  him,  and  make 
part  of  his  very  small  family,  and  it  was  since 
the  arrival  of  this  newcomer  that  old  Apple- 
joy's  ghost  had  confined  himself  almost  exclu- 
sively to  the  upper  portions  of  the  house. 

This  secluded  existence,  so  different  from 
109 


110  OLD  APPLEJOY'S  OHOST 

his  ordinary  habits,  was  adopted  entirely  on 
account  of  the  kindness  of  his  heart.  During 
the  lives  of  two  generations  of  his  descendants 
he  knew  that  he  had  frequently  been  seen  by 
members  of  the  family  and  others,  but  this  did 
not  disturb  him,  for  in  life  he  had  been  a  man 
who  had  liked  to  assert  his  position,  and  the 
disposition  to  do  so  had  not  left  him  now.  His 
grandson  John  had  seen  him,  and  two  or  three 
times  had  spoken  with  him,  but  as  old  Apple- 
joy's  ghost  had  heard  his  sceptical  descendant 
declare  that  these  ghostly  interviews  were  only 
dreams  or  hallucinations,  he  cared  very  little 
whether  John  saw  him  or  not.  As  to  other 
people,  it  might  be  a  very  good  thing  if  they 
believed  that  the  house  was  haunted.  People 
with  uneasy  consciences  would  not  care  to  live 
in  such  a  place. 

But  when  this  fresh  young  girl  came  upon 
the  scene  the  case  was  entirely  different.  She 
might  be  timorous  and  she  might  not,  but  old 
Apple  joy's  ghost  did  not  want  to  take  any 
risks.  There  was  nothing  the  matter  with  her 
conscience,  he  was  quite  sure,  but  she  was  not 
twenty  yet,  her  character  was  not  formed,  and 
if  anything  should  happen  which  would  lead 
her  to  suspect  that  the  house  was  haunted  she 


OLD  APPLEJOY'S  GHOST  111 

might  not  be  willing  to  live  there,  and  if  that 
should  come  to  pass  it  would  be  a  great  shock 
to  the  ghost. 

For  a  long  time  the  venerable  mansion  had 
been  a  quiet,  darkened,  melancholy  house.  A 
few  rooms  only  were  opened  and  occupied,  for 
John  Apple  joy  and  his  housekeeper,  Mrs.  Dip- 
perton,  who  for  years  had  composed  the  fam- 
ily, needed  but  little  space  in  which  to  pass 
the  monotonous  days  of  their  lives.  Bertha 
sang,  she  played  on  the  old  piano;  she  danced 
by  herself  on  the  broad  piazza;  she  wandered 
through  the  gardens  and  brought  flowers  into 
the  house,  and,  sometimes,  it  almost  might 
have  been  imagined  that  the  days  which  were 
gone  had  come  back  again. 

One  winter  evening,  when  the  light  of  the 
full  moon  entered  softly  through  every  un- 
shaded window  of  the  house,  old  Apple  joy's 
ghost  sat  in  a  stiff,  high-backed  chair,  which 
on  account  of  an  accident  to  one  of  its  legs 
had  been  banished  to  the  garret.  It  was  not 
at  all  necessary  either  for  rest  or  comfort  that 
this  kind  old  ghost  should  seat  himself  in  a 
chair,  for  he  would  have  been  quite  as  much 
at  his  ease  upon  a  clothes-line,  but  in  other 
days  he  had  been  in  the  habit  of  sitting  in 


112  OLD  APPLE  JOT '8  GHOST 

chairs,  and  it  pleased  him  to  do  so  now. 
Throwing  one  shadowy  leg  over  the  other,  he 
clasped  the  long  fingers  of  his  hazy  hand,  and 
gazed  thoughtfully  out  into  the  moonlight. 

"  Winter  has  come,"  he  said  to  himself. 
"  All  is  hard  and  cold,  and  soon  it  will  be 
Christmas.  Yes,  in  two  days  it  will  be  Christ- 
mas! " 

For  a  few  minutes  he  sat  reflecting,  and 
then  he  suddenly  started  to  his  feet. 

"  Can  it  be !  "  he  exclaimed.  "  Can  it  pos- 
sibly be  that  that  close-fisted  old  John,  that 
degenerate  son  of  my  noble  George,  does  not 
intend  to  celebrate  Christmas!  It  has  been 
years  since  he  has  done  so,  but  now  that  Bertha 
is  in  the  house,  since  it  is  her  home,  will  he 
dare  to  pass  over  Christmas  as  though  it  were 
but  a  common  day?  It  is  almost  incredible 
that  such  a  thing  could  happen,  but  so  far  there 
have  been  no  signs  of  any  preparations.  I  have 
seen  nothing,  heard  nothing,  smelt  nothing, 
but  this  moment  will  I  go  and  investigate  the 
state  of  affairs." 

Clapping  his  misty  old  cocked  hat  on  his 
head,  and  tucking  under  his  arm  the  shade  of 
his  faithful  cane,  he  descended  to  the  lower 
part  of  the  house.  Glancing  into  the  great 


OLD  APPLE 'JOT ''S  GHOST  113. 

parlors  dimly  lighted  by  the  streaks  of  moon- 
light which  came  between  the  cracks  of  the 
shutters,  he  saw  that  all  the  furniture  was 
shrouded  in  ancient  linen  covers,  and  that  the 
pictures  were  veiled  with  gauzy  hangings. 

"Humph!"  ejaculated  old  Applejoy's 
ghost,  "  he  expects  no  company  here !  "  and 
forthwith  he  passed  through  the  dining-room 
—where  in  the  middle  of  the  wide  floor  was  a 
little  round  table  large  enough  for  three — and 
entered  the  kitchen  and  pantry.  There  were 
no  signs  in  the  one  that  anything  extraordi- 
nary in  the  way  of  cooking  had  been  done,  or 
was  contemplated,  and  when  he  gazed  upon 
the  pantry  shelves,  lighted  well  enough  from 
without  for  his  keen  gaze,  he  groaned.  "  Two 
days  before  Christmas,"  he  said  to  himself, 
"  and  a  pantry  furnished  thus !  How  widely 
different  from  the  olden  time  when  I  gave 
orders  for  the  holidays!  Let  me  see  what  the 
old  curmudgeon  has  provided  for  Christmas?  " 

So  saying,  old  Applejoy's  ghost  went 
around  the  spacious  pantry,  looking  upon 
shelves  and  tables,  and  peering  through  the 
doors  of  a  closed  closet.  "  Emptiness !  Empti- 
ness !  Emptiness !  "  he  ejaculated.  "  A  cold 
leg  of  mutton  with,  I  should  say,  three  slices 


114  OLD  APPLE  JOT'S  GHOST 

cut  out  of  it;  a  ham  half  gone,  and  the 
rest  of  it  hardened  by  exposure  to  the  air;  a 
piece  of  steak  left  over  from  yesterday,  or 
nobody  knows  when,  to  be  made  into  hash,  no 
doubt!  Cold  boiled  potatoes — it  makes  me 
shiver  to  look  at  them! — to  be  cut  up  and 
fried!  Pies?  there  ought  to  be  rows  and  rows 
of  them,  and  there  is  not  one !  Cake?  Upon 
my  word,  there  is  no  sign  of  any !  and  Christ- 
mas two  days  off! 

"What  is  this?  Is  it  possible?  A  fowl! 
Yes,  it  is  a  chicken  not  full  grown,  enough 
for  three,  no  doubt,  and  the  servants  can  pick 
the  bones.  Oh,  John,  John!  how  have  you 
fallen!  A  small-sized  fowl  for  Christmas 
day! 

"And  what  more  now!  Cider?  No  trace 
of  it!  Here  is  vinegar — that  suits  John,  no 
doubt,"  and  then  forgetting  the  present  con- 
dition of  his  organism,  he  said  to  himself,  "  It 
makes  my  very  blood  run  cold  to  look  upon  a 
pantry  furnished  out  like  this!  I  must  think 
about  it!  I  must  think  about  it!  "  And  with 
bowed  head  he  passed  out  into  the  great  hall. 

If  it  were  possible  to  do  anything  to  prevent 
the  desecration  of  his  old  home  during  the  so- 
journ therein  of  the  young  and  joyous  Bertha, 


OLD  APPLE  JOT'S  GHOST  115 

the  ghost  of  old  Applejoy  was  determined  to 
do  it,  but  in  order  to  do  anything  he  must  put 
himself  into  communication  with  some  living 
being,  and  who  that  being  should  be  he  did 
not  know.  Still  rapt  in  reverie  he  passed  up 
the  stairs  and  into  the  great  chamber  where 
his  grandson  slept.  There  lay  the  old  man,  his 
hard  features  tinged  by  the  moonlight,  his 
eyelids  as  tightly  closed  as  if  there  had  been 
money  underneath  them.  The  ghost  of  old 
Applejoy  stood  by  his  bedside. 

"  I  can  make  him  wake  up  and  look  at  me," 
he  thought,  "  for  very  few  persons  can  remain 
asleep  when  anyone  is  standing  gazing  down 
upon  them — even  if  the  gazer  be  a  ghost — 
and  I  might  induce  him  to  speak  to  me  so  that 
I  might  open  my  mind  to  him  and  tell  him 
what  I  think  of  him,  but  what  impression 
could  I  expect  my  words  to  make  upon  the 
soul  of  a  one-chicken  man  like  John?  I  am 
afraid  his  heart  is  harder  than  that  dried-up 
ham.  Moreover,  if  I  should  be  able  to  speak 
to  him  and  tell  him  his  duty,  he  would  per- 
suade himself  that  he  had  been  dreaming,  and 
my  words  would  be  of  no  avail.  I  am  afraid 
it  would  be  lost  time  to  try  to  do  anything 
with  John!" 


116  OLD  APPLE  JOT'S  GHOST 

Old  Apple  joy's  ghost  turned  away  from  the 
bedside  of  his  sordid  descendant,  crossed  the 
hall,  and  passed  into  the  room  of  Mrs.  Dipper- 
ton,  the  elderly  housekeeper.  There  she  lay 
fast  asleep,  her  round  face  glimmering  like  a 
transparent  bag  filled  with  milk,  and  from  her 
slightly  parted  lips  there  came  at  regular  inter- 
vals a  feeble  little  snore,  as  if  even  in  her 
hours  of  repose  she  was  afraid  of  disturbing- 
somebody. 

The  kind-hearted  ghost  shook  his  head  as  he 
looked  down  upon  her.  "  It  would  be  of  no 
use,"  he  said,  "  she  hasn't  any  backbone,  and 
she  would  never  be  able  to  induce  old  John  to 
turn  one  inch  aside  from  his  parsimonious  path. 
More  than  that,  if  she  were  to  see  me  she 
would  probably  scream  and  go  into  a  spasm 
— die,  for  all  I  know — and  that  would  be  a 
pretty  preparation  for  Christmas!  " 

Out  he  went,  and  into  the  dreams  of  the 
good  woman  there  came  no  suspicion  that  the 
ghost  had  been  standing  by  her  considering 
her  character  with  a  pitying  contempt. 

Now  the  kind  ghost,  getting  more  and  more 
anxious  in  his  mind,  passed  to  the  front  of  the 
house  and  entered  the  chamber  occupied  by 
young  Bertha.  Once  inside  the  door,  he 


OLD  APPLE  JOT'S  GHOST  117 

stopped  reverently  and  removed  his  cocked 
hat.  The  head  of  the  little  bed  was  near  the 
uncurtained  window,  and  the  bright  light  of 
the  moon  shone  upon  a  face  more  beautiful 
in  slumber  than  in  the  sunny  hours  of  day. 

She  was  not  under  the  influence  of  the 
sound,  hard  sleep  which  lay  upon  the  master 
of  the  house  and  the  mild  Mrs.  Dipperton. 
She  slept  lightly,  her  delicate  lids,  through 
which  might  almost  be  seen  the  deep  blue  of 
her  eyes,  trembled  now  and  then  as  if  they 
would  open,  and  sometimes  her  lips  moved,  as 
if  she  would  whisper  something  about  her 
dreams. 

Old  Applejoy's  ghost  drew  nearer  to  the 
maiden,  and  bent  slightly  over  her.  He  knew 
very  well  that  it  was  mean  to  be  eavesdropping 
like  this,  but  it  was  really  necessary  that  he 
should  know  this  young  girl  better  than  he  did. 
If  he  could  hear  a  few  words  from  that  little 
mouth  he  might  find  out  what  she  thought 
about,  where  her  mind  wandered,  what  she 
would  like  him  to  do  for  her. 

At  last,  faintly  whispered,  scarcely  more 
audible  than  her  breathing,  he  heard  one  word, 
and  that  was  "Tom!" 

"  Oh,"   said  old  Applejoy's  ghost,  as  he 


118  OLD  APPLEJOY'S  GHOST 

stepped  back  from  the  bedside,  "  she  wants 
Tom!  I  like  that!  I  do  not  know  anything 
about  Tom,  but  she  ought  to  want  him.  It  is 
natural,  it  is  true,  it  is  human,  and  it  is  long 
since  there  has  been  anything  natural,  true,  or 
human  in  this  house!  But  I  wish  she  would 
say  something  else.  She  can't  have  Tom  for 
Christmas — at  least,  not  Tom  alone.  There 
is  a  great  deal  else  necessary  before  this  can  be 
made  a  place  suitable  for  Tom!  " 

Again  he  drew  near  to  Bertha  and  listened, 
but  instead  of  speaking,  suddenly  the  maiden 
opened  wide  her  eyes.  The  ghost  of  old  Ap- 
ple joy  drew  back,  and  made  a  low,  respectful 
bow.  The  maiden  did  not  move,  but  her  lovely 
eyes  opened  wider  and  wider,  and  she  fixed 
them  upon  the  apparition,  who  trembled  as  he 
stood,  for  fear  that  she  might  scream,  or  faint, 
or  in  some  way  foil  his  generous  purpose.  If 
she  did  not  first  address  him  he  could  not 
speak  to  her. 

"  Am  I  asleep?  "  she  murmured,  and  then, 
after  slightly  turning  her  head  from  side  to 
side,  as  if  to  assure  herself  that  she  was  in  her 
own  room  and  surrounded  by  familiar  objects, 
she  looked  full  into  the  face  of  old  Applejoy's 
ghost,  and  boldly  spoke  to  him.  "  Are  you  a 
spirit? "  said  she. 


OLD  APPLEJOY'S  GHOST  119 

If  a  flush  of  joy  could  redden  the  counte- 
nance of  a  filmy  shade,  the  face  of  old  Apple- 
joy's  ghost  would  have  glowed  like  a  sunlit 
rose. 

"  Dear  child,"  he  exclaimed,  "  I  am  a 
spirit !  I  am  the  ghost  of  your  Uncle's  grand- 
father. His  sister  Maria,  the  youngest  of  the 
family,  and  much  the  most  charming,  I  assure 
you,  was  your  mother,  and,  of  course,  I  was 
her  grandfather,  and  just  as  much,  of  course,  I 
am  the  ghost  of  your  great  grandfather,  but 
I  declare  to  you  I  never  felt  prouder  at  any 
moment  of  my  existences,  previous  or  pres- 
ent!" 

"  Then  you  must  be  the  original  Applejoy," 
said  Bertha;  "  and  I  think  it  very  wonderful 
that  I  am  not  afraid  of  you,  but  I  am  not. 
You  look  as  if  you  would  not  hurt  anybody 
in  this  world,  especially  me!  " 

"  There  you  have  it,"  he  exclaimed,  bring- 
ing his  cane  down  upon  the  floor  with  a  vio- 
lence which  had  it  been  the  cane  it  used  to  be 
would  have  wakened  everybody  in  the  house. 
"  There  you  have  it,  my  dear!  I  vow  to  you 
there  is  not  a  person  in  this  world  for  whom  I 
have  such  an  affection  as  I  feel  for  you.  You 
remind  me  of  my  dear  son  George.  You  are 


120  OLD  APPLE  JOT'S  GHOST 

the  picture  of  Maria  when  she  was  about  your 
age.  Your  coming  to  this  house  has  given  me 
the  greatest  pleasure ;  you  have  brought  into  it 
something  of  the  old  life.  I  wish  I  could  tell 
you  how  happy  I  have  been  since  the  bright 
spring  day  that  brought  you  here." 

"  I  did  not  suppose  I  would  make  any- 
one happy  by  coming  here,"  said  Bertha. 
"  Uncle  John  does  not  seem  to  care  much 
about  me,  and  I  suppose  I  ought  to  be  satisfied 
with  Mrs.  Dipperton  if  she  does  not  object  to 
me — but  now  the  case  is  different.  I  did  not 
know  about  you." 

"  No,  indeed,"  exclaimed  the  good  ghost, 
"  you  did  not  know  about  me,  but  I  intend  you 
to  know  about  me.  But  now  we  must  waste  no 
more  words — we  must  get  down  to  business. 
I  came  here  to-night  with  a  special  object." 

"  Business?  "  said  Bertha,  inquiringly. 

"  Yes,"  said  the  ghost,  "  it  is  business,  and 
it  is  important,  and  it  is  about  Christmas. 
Your  uncle  does  not  mean  to  have  any  Christ- 
mas in  this  house,  but  I  intend,  if  I  can  pos^ 
sibly  do  so,  to  prevent  him  from  disgracing 
himself,  but  I  cannot  do  anything  without 
somebody's  help,  and  there  is  nobody  to  help 
me  but  you.  Will  you  do  it? " 


OLD  APPLE  JOY'S  GHOST  121 

Bertha  could  not  refrain  from  a  smile.  "  It 
would  be  funny  to  help  a  ghost  to  do  any- 
thing," she  said ;  "  but  if  I  can  assist  you  I 
shall  be  very  glad." 

"  I  want  you  to  go  into  the  lower  part  of  the 
house,"  said  he.  "  I  have  something  to  show 
you  that  I  am  sure  will  interest  you  very 
much.  I  shall  now  go  down  into  the  hall, 
where  I  shall  wait  for  you,  and  I  should  like 
you  to  dress  yourself  as  warmly  and  comfort- 
ably as  you  can.  It  would  be  well  to  put  a 
shawl  around  your  head  and  shoulders.  Have 
you  some  warm,  soft  slippers  that  will  make 
no  noise  ? " 

"  Oh,  yes,"  said  Bertha,  her  eyes  twinkling 
with  delight  at  the  idea  of  this  novel  expedi- 
tion, "  I  shall  be  dressed  and  with  you  in  no 
time." 

"  Do  not  hurry  yourself,"  said  the  good 
ghost,  as  he  left  the  room,  "  we  have  most 
of  the  night  before  us." 

When  the  young  girl  had  descended  the 
great  staircase  almost  as  noiselessly  as  the 
ghost,  who  had  preceded  her,  she  found  her 
venerable  companion  waiting  for  her. 

"  Do  you  see  the  lantern  on  the  table,"  said 
he.  "  John  uses  it  when  he  goes  his  round  of 


122  OLD  APPLEJOT'S  GHOST 

the  house  at  bedtime.  There  are  matches 
hanging  above  it.  Please  light  it.  You  may 
be  sure  I  would  not  put  you  to  this  trouble  if 
I  were  able  to  do  it  myself." 

•She  dimly  perceived  the  brass  lantern,  and 
when  she  had  lighted  it  the  ghost  invited  her 
to  enter  the  study. 

"  Now,"  said  he,  as  he  led  the  way  to  the 
large  desk  with  the  cabinet  above  it,  "  will  you 
be  so  good  as  to  open  that  glass  door?  It  is 
not  locked." 

Bertha  hesitated  a  little,  but  she  opened  the 
door. 

"  Now,  please  put  your  hand  into  the  front 
corner  of  that  middle  shelf.  You  cannot  see 
anything,  but  you  will  feel  a  key  hanging  upon 
a  little  hook." 

But  Bertha  did  not  obey.  "  This  is  my 
uncle's  cabinet,"  she  said,  "  and  I  have  no 
right  to  meddle  with  his  keys  and  things!  " 

Now  the  ghost  of  old  Apple  joy  drew  him- 
self up  to  the  six  feet  two  inches  which  had 
been  his  stature  in  life;  he  slightly  frowned, 
his  expression  was  almost  severe — but  he  con- 
trolled himself,  and  spoke  calmly  to  the  girl. 
"  This  was  my  cabinet,"  he  said,  "  and  I  have 
never  surrendered  it  to  your  uncle  John! 


OLD  APPLEJOT'S  GHOST  123 

With  my  own  hands  I  screwed  the  little  hook 
into  that  dark  corner  and  hung  the  key  upon 
it!  Now  I  beg  that  you  will  take  down  that 
key.  You  have  the  authority  of  your  great- 
grandfather." 

Without  a  moment's  hesitation  Bertha  put 
her  hand  into  the  dark  corner  of  the  shelf  and 
took  the  key  from  the  hook. 

"  Thank  you  very  much,"  said  the  ghost  of 
old  Applejoy.  "  And  now  please  unlock  that 
little  drawer — the  one  at  the  bottom." 

Bertha  unlocked  and  opened  the  drawer. 
"  It  is  full  of  old  keys!  "  she  said. 

"  Yes,"  said  the  ghost,  "  and  you  will  find 
that  they  are  all  tied  together  in  a  bunch. 
Those  keys  are  what  we  came  for!  Now,  my 
dear,"  said  he,  standing  in  front  of  her  and 
looking  down  upon  her  very  earnestly,  but  so 
kindly  that  she  was  not  in  the  least  afraid  of 
him,  "  I  want  you  to  understand  that  what  we 
are  going  to  do  is  strictly  correct  and  proper, 
without  a  trace  of  inquisitive  meanness  about 
it.  This  was  once  my  house — everything  in  it 
I  planned  and  arranged.  I  am  now  going  to 
take  you  into  the  cellars  of  my  old  mansion. 
They  are  wonderful  cellars;  they  were  my 
pride  and  glory !  I  often  used  to  take  my  vis- 


124  OLD  APPLE  JOT '8  GHOST 

itors  to  see  them,  and  wide  and  commodious 
stairs  lead  down  to  them.  Are  you  afraid,"  he 
said,  "  to  descend  with  me  into  these  subter- 
ranean regions?  " 

"Not  a  bit  of  it!  "  exclaimed  Bertha,  al- 
most too  loud  for  prudence.  "  I  have  heard  of 
the  cellars  and  wanted  to  see  them,  though 
Mrs.  Dipperton  told  me  that  my  uncle  never 
allowed  anyone  to  enter  them;  but  I  think  it 
will  be  the  j  oiliest  thing  in  the  world  to  go 
with  my  great-grandfather  into  the  cellars 
which  he  built  himself,  and  of  which  he  was 
so  proud!  " 

This  speech  so  charmed  the  ghost  of  old  Ap- 
plejoy  that  he  would  instantly  have  kissed  his 
great-granddaughter  had  it  not  been  that  he 
was  afraid  of  giving  her  a  cold. 

"You  are  a  girl  to  my  liking!"  he  ex- 
claimed, "  and  I  wish  with  all  my  heart  that 
you  had  been  living  at  the  time  I  was  alive 
and  master  of  this  house.  We  should  have 
had  gay  times  together — you  may  believe 
that!" 

"  I  wish  you  were  alive  now,  dear  great- 
grandpapa,"  said  she,  "  and  that  would  be 
better  than  the  other  way!  And  now  let  us 
go  on — I  am  all  impatience !  " 


OLD  APPLE  JOT'S  GHOST  125 

They  then  descended  into  the  cellars,  which, 
until  the  present  owner  came  into  possession  of 
the  estate,  had  been  famous  throughout  the 
neighborhood.  "  This  way,"  said  old  Apple- 
joy's  ghost.  "  You  will  find  the  floor  perfectly 
dry,  and  if  we  keep  moving  you  will  not  be 
chilled. 

"  Do  you  see  that  row  of  old  casks  nearly 
covered  with  cobwebs  and  dust?  ISTow,  my 
dear,  those  casks  contain  some  of  the  choicest 
spirits  ever  brought  into  this  country,  and  most 
of  them  are  more  than  half  full!  The  finest 
rum  from  Jamaica,  brandy  from  France,  and 
gin  from  Holland — gin  with  such  a  flavor,  my 
dear,  that  if  you  were  to  take  out  the  bung 
the  delightful  aroma  would  fill  the  whole 
house!  There  is  port  there,  too,  and  if  it  is 
not  too  old  it  must  be  the  rarest  wine  in  the 
country !  And  Madeira,  a  little  glass  of  which, 
my  dear,  is  a  beverage  worthy  even  of  you ! 

"  These  things  were  not  stowed  away  by  me, 
but  by  my  dear  son  George,  who  knew  their 
value ;  but  as  for  John — he  drinks  water  and 
tea !  He  is  a  one-chicken  man,  and  if  he  has 
allowed  any  of  these  rare  spirits  to  become 
worthless,  simply  on  account  of  age,  he  ought 
to  be  sent  to  the  county  prison ! 


126  OLD  APPLE  JOT'S  GHOST 

"  But  we  must  move  on !  Do  you  see  all 
these  bottles — dingy  looking  enough,  but  filled 
with  the  choicest  wines?  Many  of  these  are 
better  than  ever  they  were,  although  some  of 
them  may  have  spoiled.  John  would  let 
everything  spoil.  He  is  a  dog  in  the  manger ! 

"  Come  into  this  little  room.  Now,  then, 
hold  up  your  lantern,  and  look  all  around  you. 
Notice  that  row  of  glass  jars  on  the  shelf. 
They  are  filled  with  the  finest  mincemeat  ever 
made  by  mortal  man — or  woman!  It  is  the 
same  kind  of  mincemeat  I  used  to  eat.  George 
had  it  put  up  so  that  he  might  have  the  sort  of 
pies  at  Christmas  which  I  gave  him  when  he 
was  a  boy.  That  mincemeat  is  just  as  good  as 
ever  it  was !  John  is  a  dyspeptic ;  he  wouldn't 
eat  mince-pie!  But  he  will  eat  fried  potatoes, 
and  they  are  ten  times  worse  for  him,  if  he 
did  but  know  it ! 

"  There  are  a  lot  more  jars  and  cans,  all 
sealed  up  tightly.  I  do  not  know  what  good 
things  are  in  them,  but  I  am  sure  their  con- 
tents are  just  what  will  be  wanted  to  fill  out  a 
Christmas  table.  If  Mrs.  Dipperton  were  to 
come  down  here  and  open  those  jars  and  bot- 
tles she  would  think  she  was  in  Heaven! 

"  But  now,  my  dear,  I  want  to  show  you 


OLD  APPLEJOY'S  GHOST  127 

the  grandest  thing  in  these  cellars,  the  dia- 
mond of  the  collection !  Behold  that  wooden 
box!  Inside  of  it  is  another  box  made  of  tin, 
soldered  up  tightly,  so  that  it  is  perfectly  air- 
tight. Inside  of  that  tin  box  is  a  great  plum- 
cake!  And  now  listen  to  me,  Bertha!  That 
cake  was  put  into  that  box  by  me.  I  intended 
it  to  stay  there  for  a  long  time,  for  plum-cake 
gets  better  and  better  the  longer  it  is  kept,  but 
I  did  not  suppose  that  the  box  would  not  be 
opened  for  three  generations!  The  people 
who  eat  that  cake,  my  dear  Bertha,  will  be 
blessed  above  all  their  fellow  mortals!  that 
is  to  say,  as  far  as  cake-eating  goes. 

"  And  now  I  think  you  have  seen  enough  to 
understand  thoroughly  that  these  cellars  are 
the  abode  of  many  good  things  to  eat  and  to 
drink.  It  is  their  abode,  but  if  John  could 
have  his  way  it  would  be  their  sepulchre!  I 
was  fond  of  good  living,  as  you  may  well  im- 
agine, and  so  was  my  dear  son  George,  but 
John  is  a  degenerate!  " 

"  But  why  did  you  bring  me  here,  great- 
grandpapa?  "  said  Bertha.  "  Do  you  want  me 
to  come  down  here,  and  have  my  Christmas 
dinner  with  you? "  And  as  she  said  this  she 
unselfishly  hoped  that  when  the  tin  box  should 


128  OLD  APPLE  JOT '8  GHOST 

be  opened  it  might  contain  the  ghost  of  a  cake, 
for  it  was  quite  plain  that  her  great-grand- 
father had  been  an  enthusiast  in  the  matter  of 
plum-cake. 

"  No,  indeed,"  said  old  Applejoy's  ghost. 
"  Come  up-stairs,  and  let  us  go  into  the  study. 
There  are  some  coals  left  on  the  hearth,  and 
you  will  not  be  chilled  while  we  talk." 

When  the  great  cellar-door  had  been  locked, 
the  keys  replaced  in  the  drawer,  the  little  key 
hung  upon  its  hook,  and  the  cabinet  closed, 
Bertha  sat  down  before  the  fireplace  and 
warmed  her  fingers  over  the  few  embers  it  con- 
tained, while  the  spirit  of  her  great-grand- 
father stood  by  her  and  talked  to  her. 

"  Bertha,"  said  he,  "  it  is  wicked  not  to  cele- 
brate Christmas — especially  when  one  is  able 
to  do  so — in  the  most  hospitable  and  generous 
way.  For  years  John  has  taken  no  notice  of 
Christmas,  and  it  is  full  time  that  he  should 
reform,  and  it  is  your  duty  and  my  duty  to 
reform  him  if  we  can!  You  have  seen  what 
he  has  in  the  cellars;  there  are  turkeys  in  the 
poultry-yard — for  I  know  he  has  not  sold 
them  all — and  if  there  is  anything  wanting 
for  a  grand  Christmas  celebration  he  has  an 
abundance  of  money  with  which  to  buy  it. 


OLD  APPLE  JOT '8  GHOST  129 

There  is  not  much  time  before  Christmas  Day, 
but  there  is  time  enough  to  do  everything 
that  has  to  be  done,  if  you  and  I  go  to  work 
and  set  other  people  to  work." 

"  And  how  are  we  to  do  that?  "  asked  Ber- 
tha. 

"  We  haven't  an  easy  task  before  us,"  said 
the  ghost,  "  but  I  have  been  thinking  a  great 
deal  about  it,  and  I  believe  we  can  accomplish 
it.  The  straightforward  thing  to  do  is  for  me 
to  appear  to  your  uncle,  tell  him  his  duty, 
and  urge  him  to  perform  it,  but  I  know  what 
will  be  the  result.  He  would  call  the  interview 
a  dream,  and  attribute  it  to  too  much  hash 
and  fried  potatoes,  and  the  result  would  be 
that  he  would  have  a  plainer  table  for  awhile 
and  half  starve  you  and  Mrs.  Dipperton.  But 
there  is  nothing  dreamlike  about  you,  my  dear. 
If  anyone  hears  you  talking  he  will  know  he  is 
awake." 

"  I  think  that  is  very  true,"  said  Bertha, 
smiling.  "  Do  you  want  me  to  talk  to  un- 
cle?" 

"  Yes,"  said  old  Applejoy's  ghost,  "  I  do 
want  you  to  talk  to  him.  I  want  you  to  go  to 
him  immediately  after  breakfast  to-morrow 
morning,  and  tell  him  exactly  what  has  hap- 


130  OLD  APPLE  JOT'S  QHOST 

penecl  this  night.  He  cannot  believe  dreams 
are  fried  potatoes  when  you  tell  him  about  the 
little  key  in  the  corner  of  the  shelf,  the  big 
keys  in  the  drawer,  the  casks  of  spirits  (and 
you  can  tell  him  what  is  in  each  one),  the  jars 
of  mincemeat,  and  the  wooden  box  nailed  fast 
and  tight  with  the  tin  box  inside  holding  the 
cake.  John  knows  all  about  that  cake,  for  his 
father  told  him,  and  he  knows  all  about  me, 
too,  although  he  tries  not  to  believe  in  me,  and 
when  you  have  told  him  all  you  have  seen,  and 
when  you  give  him  my  message,  I  think  it  will 
make  him  feel  that  you  and  I  are  awake,  and 
that  he  would  better  keep  awake,  too,  if  he 
knows  what's  good  for  him." 

"  And  what  is  the  message  ?  "  asked  Bertha. 

"  It  is  simply  this,"  said  old  Applejoy's 
ghost.  "  When  you  have  told  him  all  the 
events  of  this  night,  and  when  he  sees  that  they 
must  have  happened,  for  you  could  not  have 
imagined  them,  I  want  you  to  tell  him  that 
it  is  my  wish  and  desire,  the  wish  and  desire  of 
his  grandfather,  to  whom  he  owes  everything 
he  possesses,  that  there  shall  be  worthy  festivi- 
ties in  this  house  on  Christmas  Day  and  Night 
— I  would  say  something  about  Christmas  Eve, 
but  I  am  afraid  there  is  not  time  enough  for 


OLD  APPLEJOY'S  GHOST  131 

that.  Tell  him  to  kill  his  turkeys,  open  his 
cellars,  and  spend  his  money.  Tell  him  to 
send  for  at  least  a  dozen  good  friends  and  rela- 
tives, for  they  will  gladly  give  up  their  own 
Christmas  dinner  when  they  know  that  the 
great  holiday  is  to  be  celebrated  in  this  house. 
There  is  time  enough,  messengers  and  horses 
can  be  hired,  and  you  can  attend  to  the  invita- 
tions. Mrs.  Dipperton  is  a  good  manager  when 
she  has  a  chance,  and  I  know  she  will  do  her- 
self honor  this  time  if  John  will  give  her  the 
range. 

"  Now,  my  dear,"  said  old  Applejoy's 
ghost,  drawing  near  to  the  young  girl,  "  I  want 
to  ask  you  a  question — a  private,  personal  ques- 
tion. Who  is  Tom?" 

At  these  words  a  sudden  blush  rushed  into 
the  cheeks  of  Bertha. 

"  Tom?  "  she  said;  "  what  Tom?  " 

"  Now,  don't  beat  about  the  bush  with  me," 
said  old  Applejoy's  ghost;  "I  am  sure  you 
know  a  young  man  named  Tom,  and  I  want 
you  to  tell  me  who  he  is.  My  name  was  Tom, 
and  for  the  sake  of  my  past  life  I  am  very  fond 
of  Toms.  But  you  must  tell  me  about  your 
Tom — is  he  a  nice  young  fellow?  Do  you 
like  him  very  much  ?  " 


132  OLD  APPLE  JOY'S  GHOST 

"  Yes,"  said  Bertha,  meaning  the  answer 
to  cover  both  questions. 

"  And  does  he  like  you?  " 

"  I  think  so,"  said  Bertha. 

"  That  means  you  are  in  love  with  each 
other! "  exclaimed  old  Apple  joy's  ghost. 
"  And  now,  my  dear,  tell  me  his  name?  Out 
with  it!  You  can't  help  yourself." 

"  Mr.  Burcham,"  said  Bertha,  her  cheeks 
now  a  little  pale,  for  it  seemed  to  her  a  very 
bold  thing  for  her  to  talk  in  this  way  even  in 
the  company  of  only  a  spirit. 

"  Son  of  Thomas  Burcham  of  the  Mead- 
ows? Grandson  of  old  General  Burcham?  " 

"  Yes,  sir,"  said  Bertha. 

The  ghost  of  old  Applejoy  gazed  down 
upon  his  great-granddaughter  with  pride  and 
admiration. 

"  My  dear  Bertha,"  he  exclaimed,  "  I  con- 
gratulate you!  I  knew  the  old  general  well, 
and  I  have  seen  young  Tom.  He  is  a  fine-look- 
ing fellow,  and  if  you  love  him  I  know  he  is  a 
good  one.  Now,  I'll  tell  you  what  we  will 
do,  Bertha.  "We  will  have  Tom  here  on  Christ- 
mas." 

"  Oh,  great-grandfather,"  exclaimed  the 
girl,  "  I  can't  ask  uncle  to  invite  him." 


OLD  APPLE  JOT '8  GHOST  133 

"  We  will  make  it  all  right,"  said  the  beam- 
ing ghost.  "  We  will  have  a  bigger  party  than 
we  thought  we  would.  All  the  guests  when 
they  are  invited  will  be  asked  to  bring  their 
families.  When  a  big  dinner  is  given  at  this 
house  Thomas  Burcham,  Esq.,  must  not  be 
left  out,  and  don't  you  see,  Bertha,  he  is  bound 
to  bring  Tom.  And  now  you  must  not  stay 
here  a  minute  longer.  Skip  back  to  your  bed, 
and  immediately  after  breakfast  come  here  to 
your  uncle  and  tell  him  everything  I  have 
told  you  to  tell  him." 

Bertha  rose  to  obey,  but  she  hesitated. 

"  Great-grandfather,"  she  said,  "  if  uncle 
does  allow  us  to  celebrate  Christmas,  will  you 
be  with  us? " 

"  Yes,  indeed,  my  dear,"  said  he.  "  And 
you  need  not  be  afraid  of  my  frightening  any- 
body. When  I  choose  I  can  be  visible  to  some 
and  invisible  to  others.  I  shall  be  everywhere 
and  I  shall  hear  everything,  but  I  shall  appear 
only  to  the  loveliest  woman  who  ever  graced 
this  mansion.  And  now  be  off  to  bed  without 
another  word." 

"  If  she  hadn't  gone,"  said  old  Applejoy's 
ghost  to  himself,  "  I  couldn't  have  helped  giv- 
ing her  a  good-night  kiss." 


OLD  APPLE  JOT'S  GHOST 

The  next  morning,  as  Bertha  told  the  story 
of  her  night's  adventures  to  her  uncle,  the  face 
of  John  Applejoy  grew  paler  and  paler.  He 
was  a  hard-headed  man,  but  a  superstitious  one, 
and  when  the  story  began  he  wondered  if  it 
were  a  family  failing  to  have  dreams  about 
ghosts;  but  when  he  heard  of  the  visit  to  the 
cellars,  and  especially  when  Bertha  told  him  of 
his  grandfather's  plum-cake,  the  existence  of 
which  he  had  believed  was  not  known  to  any- 
one but  himself,  he  felt  it  was  impossible  for 
the  girl  to  have  dreamed  these  things.  When 
Bertha  had  finished  he  actually  believed  that 
she  had  seen  and  talked  with  the  ghost  of  her 
great-grandfather.  With  all  the  power  of  hia 
will  he  opposed  this  belief,  but  it  was  too  much 
for  him,  and  he  surrendered.  But  he  was  a 
proud  man  and  would  not  admit  to  his  niece 
that  he  put  any  faith  in  the  existence  of  ghosts. 

"  My  dear,"  said  he,  rising  and  standing  be- 
fore the  fire,  his  face  still  pale,  but  his  ex- 
pression under  good  control,  "  you  have  had 
a  very  strange  dream.  Now,  don't  declare  that 
it  wasn't  a  dream — people  always  do  that — 
but  hear  me  out.  Although  there  is  nothing 
of  weight  in  what  you  have  told  me — for  tra- 
ditions about  my  cellars  have  been  afloat  in 


OLD  APPLEJOT'S  GHOST  135 

the  family — still  your  pretty  little  story  sug- 
gests something  to  me.  This  is  Christmas-time 
and  I  had  almost  overlooked  it.  You  are 
young  and  lively  and  accustomed  to  the  cele- 
bration of  holidays.  Therefore,  I  have  de- 
termined, my  dear,  to  consider  your  dream 
just  as  if  it  had  been  a  real  happening,  and 
we  will  have  a  grand  Christmas  dinner,  and 
invite  our  friends  and  their  families.  I  know 
there  must  be  good  things  in  the  cellars,  al- 
though I  had  almost  forgotten  them,  and 
they  shall  be  brought  up  and  spread  out  and 
enjoyed.  Now  go  and  send  Mrs.  Dipperton 
to  me,  and  when  we  have  finished  our  con- 
sultation, you  and  I  will  make  out  a  list  of 
guests  and  send  off  the  invitations." 

When  she  had  gone,  John  Applejoy  sat 
down  in  his  big  chair  and  looked  fixedly  into 
the  fire.  He  would  not  have  dared  to  go  to 
bed  that  night  if  he  had  disregarded  the  mes- 
sage from  his  grandfather. 

Never  since  the  old  house  had  begun  to 
stand  upon  its  foundations  had  there  been  such 
glorious  Christmas-times  within  its  walls.  The 
news  that  old  Mr.  Applejoy  was  sending  out 
invitations  to  a  Christmas  dinner  spread  like 
wildfire  through  the  neighborhood,  and  those 


136  OLD  APPLE  JOT'S  GHOST 

who  were  not  invited  were  almost  as  much  ex- 
cited as  those  who  were  asked  to  be  guests. 
The  idea  of  inviting  people  by  families  was 
considered  a  grand  one,  worthy  indeed  of  the 
times  of  old  Mr.  Tom  Apple  joy,  the  grand- 
father of  the  present  owner,  who  had  been  the 
most  hospitable  man  in  the  whole  country. 

For  the  first  time  in  nearly  a  century  all  the 
leaves  of  the  great  dining-table  were  put  into 
use,  and  chairs  for  the  company  were  brought 
from  every  part  of  the  house.  All  the  pent-up 
domestic  enthusiasm  in  the  soul  of  Mrs.  Dip- 
perton,  the  existence  of  which  no  one  had  sus- 
pected, now  burst  out  in  one  grand  volcanic 
eruption,  and  the  great  table  had  as  much  as  it 
could  do  to  stand  up  under  its  burdens  brought 
from  cellar,  barn,  and  surrounding  country. 

In  the  very  middle  of  everything  was  the 
great  and  wonderful  plum-cake  which  had 
been  put  away  by  the  famous  grandfather  of 
the  host. 

But  the  cake  was  not  cut.  "  My  friends," 
said  Mr.  John  Applejoy,  "  we  may  all  look  at 
this  cake  but  we  will  not  eat  it !  We  will  keep 
it  just  as  it  is  until  a  marriage  shall  occur  in 
this  family.  Then  you  are  all  invited  to  come 
and  enjoy  it !  " 


OLD  APPLEJOY'S  GHOST  137 

At  the  conclusion  of  this  little  speech  old 
Applejoy's  ghost  patted  his  degenerate  grand- 
son upon  the  head.  "  You  don't  feel  that, 
John,"  he  said  to  himself,  "  but  it  is  approba- 
tion, and  this  is  the  first  time  I  have  ever  ap- 
proved of  you !  You  must  know  of  the  exist- 
ence of  young  Tom !  You  may  turn  out  to  be 
a  good  fellow  yet,  and  if  you  will  drink  some 
of  that  rare  old  Madeira  every  day,  I  am  sure 
you  will !  " 

Late  in  the  evening  there  was  a  grand  dance 
in  the  great  hall,  which  opened  with  an  old- 
fashioned  minuet,  and  when  the  merry  guests 
were  forming  on  the  floor,  a  young  man  named 
Tom  came  forward  and  asked  the  hand  of 
Bertha. 

"  No,"  said  she,  "  not  this  time.  I  am  go- 
ing to  dance  this  first  dance  with — well,  we 
will  say  by  myself!  " 

At  these  words  the  most  thoroughly  grati- 
fied ghost  in  all  space,  stepped  up  to  the  side  of 
the  lovely  girl,  and  with  his  cocked  hat  folded 
flat  under  his  left  arm,  he  made  a  low  bow 
and  held  out  his  hand.  With  his  neatly  tied 
cue,  his  wide-skirted  coat,  his  long  waist- 
coat trimmed  with  lace,  his  tightly  drawn 
stockings  and  his  buckled  shoes,  there  was  not 
such  a  gallant  figure  in  the  whole  company. 


138  OLD  APPLE  JOT'S  GHOST 

Bertha  put  out  her  hand  and  touched  the 
shadowy  fingers  of  her  partner,  and  then,  side 
by  side,  she  and  the  ghost  of  her  great-grand- 
father opened  the  ball.  Together  they  made 
the  coupee,  the  high  step,  and  the  balance. 
They  advanced,  they  retired,  they  came  to- 
gether. With  all  the  grace  of  fresh  young 
beauty  and  ancient  courtliness  they  danced 
the  minuet. 

"  What  a  strange  young  girl,"  said  some  of 
the  guests,  "and  what  a  queer  fancy  to  go 
through  that  dance  all  by  herself,  but  how 
beautifully  she  did  it!  " 

"  Very  eccentric,  my  dear!  "  said  Mr.  John 
Applejoy,  when  the  dance  was  over.  "  But 
you  danced  most  charmingly.  I  could  not  help 
thinking  as  I  looked  at  you  that  there  was  no- 
body in  this  room  that  was  worthy  to  be  your 
partner." 

"  You  are  wrong  there,  old  fellow !  "  was 
the  simultaneous  mental  ejaculation  of  young 
Tom  Burcham  and  of  old  Apple  joy's  ghost. 


STRUCK  BY  A  BOOMERANG 


STRUCK  BY  A  BOOMERANG 
I. 

WHEN  I  opened  my  law  office  in  the 
little  country  town  of  Camborough,  I 
was  just  twenty-five  years  old.  I  made  it  a 
point  to  begin  my  legal  career  with  my  second 
quarter  of  a  century.  When  my  twenty-sixth 
birthday  arrived,  and  no  client  had  yet  come 
to  me,  I  felt  a  little  low  in  spirits,  although  I 
knew  very  well  there  was  no  good  reason  that 
I  should  do  so;  but  as  hoping  without  rea- 
son is  a  mental  occupation  so  common  to  the 
human  race,  I  felt  that  I  had  as  good  a  right 
as  any  other  of  my  fellow-beings  to  indulge  in 
it. 

In  the  meantime,  while  waiting  for  clients, 
I  studied,  I  sedulously  attended  the  courts, 
and  I  fell  in  love.  Whether  or  not  this  last- 
mentioned  affair  was  connected  in  any  way 
with  hoping  without  reason,  I  could  not  say, 
141 


142  STRUCK  BY  A  BOOMERANG 

but  I  still  followed  the  example  of  the  human 
race,  and  loved  with  the  earnestness  and  stead- 
fastness which  I  should  have  been  glad  to  put 
into  law  business,  if  I  had  had  the  opportunity. 

Natalie  Kefford  was  the  eldest  daughter  of 
Mr.  Archibald  Kefford,  one  of  the  leading 
citizens  of  Camborough.  She  was  a  beautiful 
woman,  with  a  soul — so  far  as  I  could  dis- 
cover— in  thorough  harmony  with  my  own. 
I  had  become  acquainted  with  the  family  when 
I  first  came  to  the  town  as  a  law  student,  and 
thus  I  had  learned  to  know  them  all  well,  and 
to  love  Natalie.  She  was  not  engaged  to  me, 
but  I  considered  that  I  was  engaged  to  her. 
It  was  a  solemn  compact  made  with  myself. 

Feeling  as  I  did  toward  the  Kefford  family, 
it  is  not  surprising  that  I  should  have  derived 
an  unmistakable  satisfaction,  I  may  say  pleas- 
ure, in  the  news  of  the  death  of  Nicholas  Kef- 
ford,  an  uncle  of  Natalie's  father.  This  old 
gentleman  had  been  a  farmer  residing  near 
the  village  of  Satbury,  about  five  miles  from 
Camborough.  His  agricultural  operations  and 
his  success  in  speculations  of  various  kinds  had 
given  him  a  very  fair  property,  and  he  was 
generally  considered  one  of  the  rich  men  of 
the  county.  He  was  unmarried,  and  his  only 


STRUCK  BY  A  BOOMERANG          143 

natural  heirs  were  Mr.  Archibald  Kefford  and 
his  sister,  Mrs.  Crown,  a  widow  with  several 
children,  living  near  Baltimore. 

As  the  old  man  had  always  been  on  very 
friendly  terms  with  his  nephew  and  his  niece, 
it  was  natural  to  expect  that  the  whole  or  a 
part  of  his  property  would  be  divided  between 
them.  Neither  of  them  was  rich,  for  although 
Mr.  Kefford's  business — he  was  a  real  estate 
agent — was  fairly  good,  his  family  was  grow- 
ing more  expensive  each  year.  Mrs.  Crown 
possessed  but  a  limited  income,  and  she  had 
probably  built  high  hopes  upon  her  uncle's  in- 
evitable demise. 

I  did  not  blame  myself  for  my  gratification 
at  the  news  of  the  death  of  Nicholas  Kefford. 
If  I  had  known  Mrs.  Crown  I  should  not  have 
blamed  her  for  any  pleasure  she  might  have 
shown  on  account  of  the  event,  and  although 
Mr.  Archibald  Kefford,  who  had  always  lived 
so  near  his  uncle  and  had  been  on  terms  of 
more  intimacy  with  him,  showed  a  genuine 
sorrow  when  he  died,  I  should  have  found  no 
fault  with  any  quiet  illumination  of  his  inner 
soul  if  I  could  have  looked  into  those  recesses. 
To  die  for  the  benefit  of  others  after  a  man 
had  lived  long  for  his  own  benefit,  may  be 


144          STRUCK  BY  A  BOOMERANG 

considered  a  most  commendable  close  to  a  suc- 
cessful life. 

But  when  Mr.  Nicholas  Kefford's  will  was 
opened,  it  was  discovered  that  his  property  was 
not  left  to  his  nephew  and  his  niece.  The  will, 
which  was  found  in  the  old  gentleman's  desk, 
was  dated  about  a  year  back,  and  in  it  the 
testator  left  all  his  property,  without  reserva- 
tion, to  charity;  more  than  this,  he  left  it  to 
a  single  charity :  "  The  Satbury  Institution 
for  the  Cure  of  Nervous  Diseases." 

The  announcement  of  the  contents  of  the 
will  occasioned  surprise  and  indignation 
throughout  Camborough  and  the  vicinity.  It 
was  almost  impossible  to  understand  such  de- 
pravity in  one  who,  for  so  many  years,  had 
been  considered  an  estimable  citizen.  Old 
Kefford  apparently  had  never  had  any  nerves 
himself,  and  why  should  he  suddenly  evince 
such  an  interest  in  the  nerves  of  other  people  ? 

The  institution  to  which  this  most  amazing 
bequest  had  been  made,  consisted  at  that  time 
of  a  large  house  standing  in  an  open  field.  It 
contained  a  few  officers  and  attendants,  a  very 
few  patients,  all  from  a  distance,  and  was  pre- 
sided over,  directed,  and  managed  by  Spencer 
Latirner,  M.D.,  also  from  a  distance.  This 


STRUCK  BY  A  BOOMERANG          145 

gentleman  had  come  from  the  salubrious 
region  of  Satbury  about  three  years  before, 
had  bought  some  land  of  Nicholas  Kefford, 
and  had  erected  his  institution.  The  Cam- 
borough  people  had  never  cared  for  Doctor 
Latimer;  and  although  there  were  persons  in 
the  town  who,  to  my  certain  knowledge,  were 
afflicted  with  nervous  disorders — such,  for  in- 
stance, as  an  unreasonable  distrust  for  attor- 
neys and  barristers  who  might  happen  to  be  at 
the  beginning  of  their  careers — none  of  them 
ever  patronized  the  institution,  and  although 
it  was  known  that  old  Nicholas  Kefford  did 
show  a  certain  interest  in  the  establishment,  it 
was  supposed  that  he  held  mortgages  upon  said 
property,  and  was  looking  out  for  the  mo- 
ment when  it  would  be  advisable  for  him  to 
foreclose.  He  was  a  sagacious  speculator  and 
exceedingly  skilful  in  the  art  of  calculating 
the  probable  period  of  a  mortgage. 

It  was  very  easy  to  see,  when  this  affair  had 
been  thoroughly  discussed  from  various  points 
of  view,  that  the  estate  of  Nicholas  Kefford 
had,  in  reality  been  left,  not  to  charity,  more 
or  less  worthy,  but  to  Spencer  Latimer,  M.D., 
for  his  sole  benefit  and  uses.  He,  in  fact,  was 
the  Institution.  There  seemed  to  be  nobody 


146          STRUCK  BY  A  BOOMERANG 

to  whom  lie  was  responsible,  and  why  he 
should  become  the  owner  of  this  property  and 
why  Nicholas  Kefford  should  have  left  it  to 
him,  were  questions  which  nobody  in  Cam- 
borough  troubled  himself  to  answer,  for  no- 
body believed  that  the  will  was  a  true  one. 

Mr.  Kefford  and  Mrs.  Crown  took  legal  ad- 
vice, the  will  was  disputed,  and  when  it  was 
submitted  to  the  court  it  was  not  admitted  to 
probate.  These  proceedings  were  resented  and 
opposed  by  Doctor  Latimer.  They  not  only 
interfered  with  the  interests  of  the  Institution 
to  which  he  had  the  honor  to  be  attached,  but 
they  struck  a  cruel  blow  at  his  reputation.  He 
asserted  that  old  Mr.  Kefford  had  long  been 
his  valued  friend;  that  he,  Latimer,  would  not 
have  come  to  Satbury  if  Mr.  Kefford  had  not 
advised  it;  that  he  could  not  have  afforded  to 
establish  himself  there  had  it  not  been  for  Mr. 
Kefford's  assistance.  He  also  declared  that 
this  bequest  was  not  surprising  to  him,  for  it 
had  been  talked  over  between  him  and  the  old 
gentleman,  who  had  assured  him  that  his 
nephew  and  his  niece  were  in  comfortable  cir- 
cumstances, and  that  he  desired  to  leave  his 
hard-earned  money  to  an  institution  where  it 
would  be  of  lasting  benefit.  The  doctor  was 


STRUCK  BY  A  BOOMERANG          147 

confident  that  he  could  establish  the  validity 
of  the  will,  and  he  also  engaged  legal  advisers. 

In  reference  to  the  legal  advice  I  have  men- 
tioned, I  am  obliged  to  say  that  none  of  it  was 
my  own,  and  I  must  also  admit  that  this  omis- 
sion to  consider  me  in  connection  with  the  pro- 
ceedings contemplated  by  Mr.  Kefford  and  his 
sister,  touched,  not  pleasantly,  my  somewhat 
sensitive  feelings.  It  did  seem  to  me  that  here 
was  a  chance  to  assist  a  deserving  young  friend, 
of  which  Mr.  Kefford  should  have  gladly 
availed  himself,  especially  when  he  knew,  as  he 
could  not  fail  to  know,  that  it  was  not  only  for 
myself  that  I  desired  to  work  and  to  succeed. 
This  case,  too,  was  a  very  simple  one,  a  mere 
matter  of  a  will  probably  forged  or  altered, 
such  as  I  have  often  read  of  in  law  books  and 
even  in  novels.  It  would  have  been  in  every 
way  a  most  suitable  case  for  me  to  begin  upon, 
but  I  was  not  asked  to  give  the  slightest  assist- 
ance, and  Mr.  Kefford  put  the  case  of  himself 
and  Mrs.  Crown  into  the  hands  of  Messrs. 
Shallcross  &  Dorman,  a  firm  of  lawyers,  who 
already  had  so  much  business  they  did  not 
know  what  to  do  with  it. 

Although  sorely  hurt,  I  determined  that  I 
would  not  let  any  of  the  Kefford  family  know 


148          STRUCK  BY  A  BOOMERANG 

it.  Even  to  Natalie  I  made  no  complaint,  and 
to  Mr.  Kefford  I  talked  of  the  affair  as  I  would 
of  any  matter  in  which  it  was  not  expected 
that  I  should  take  anything  but  a  friendly  in- 
terest. The  wound  rankled,  but  I  believe  I 
concealed  it. 

One  strong  objection  to  the  validity  of  the 
will  was  the  fact  that  everything  which  had 
been  owned  by  the  testator  was  given  without 
reserve  to  the  Institution.  It  was  reasonably 
argued  that  even  if  old  Mr.  Kefford  had  de- 
sired to  give  the  greater  part  of  his  property 
to  this  charity,  he  would  have  made  some  be- 
quests to  his  relatives.  I  had  studied  the  will 
very  carefully,  and  in  conversation  with  Mr. 
Kefford  I  took  occasion  to  give  my  ideas  con- 
cerning this  peculiar  feature  of  it. 

"  I  believe,  sir,"  said  I,  "  that  this  will  is 
a  copy  of  a  true  will  made  by  old  Mr.  Kefford, 
and  of  which  Doctor  Latimer  had  gained  pos- 
session. The  property  bequeathed  is  described 
so  clearly  and  in  such  detail  that  I  do  not 
believe  anyone  but  the  old  gentleman  could 
have  drawn  it  or  dictated  it.  It  was  probably 
all  left  to  yourself  and  your  sister,  and  the  only 
alteration  which  Doctor  Latimer  dared  to  make 
was  the  substitution  of  his  name  for  those  orig- 


STRUCK  BY  A  BOOMERANG          149 

inally  mentioned.  If  he  could  have  done  so, 
I  believe  he  would  have  inserted  other  bequests 
so  as  to  give  the  document  an  air  of  natural- 
ness and  credibility,  but  as  he  could  not  con- 
sult anyone  of  legal  experience  in  the  matter 
of  altering  a  will,  and  as  he  was  afraid  to  do  it 
himself  for  fear  of  making  a  mistake  which 
would  have  spoilt  everything,  he  confined  him- 
self to  the  change  of  names.  That  is  the  way 
I  look  at  it,  sir." 

Mr.  Keiford  replied  that  he  thought  it  was 
not  at  all  unlikely  that  I  was  correct  in  my 
suppositions,  and  I  have  reason  to  believe  that 
he  mentioned  these  suppositions  to  Shallcross 
&  Dorman ;  but  I  did  not  mind  this.  If  there 
was  anything  I  could  do  for  Natalie's  family 
I  would  do  it,  asking  only  that  they  should  do 
one  thing  for  me — that  is,  if  I  should  find 
that  Natalie  was  willing  it  should  be  done. 

In  regard  to  the  signature  of  the  will  there 
were  diverse  opinions,  but  the  majority  of 
those  who  examined  it  thought  that  if  it  were 
not  the  writing  of  Nicholas  Kefford  it  looked 
very  much  like  it.  However,  it  could  not  be 
expected  that  a  man  of  Doctor  Latimer's 
shrewdness  would  undertake  to  fabricate  a 
false  will  without  being  able  to  counterfeit  a 
signature. 


150         STRUCK  BY  A  BOOMERANG 

Of  the  witnesses  to  the  will,  one,  John  Ash- 
more,  an  elderly  man  employed  on  old  Kef- 
ford's  farm,  had  died  soon  after  the  date  of  the 
will,  and  no  one  had  heard  him  say  anything 
about  witnessing  such  a  document.  The  other 
witness,  Reuben  Farris,  was  a  man  who  also 
had  been  employed  by  old  Mr.  Kefford.  He 
was  a  carpenter,  and  had  been  engaged  at 
various  times  in  making  repairs  to  barns  and 
out-houses.  He  was  of  a  wandering  disposi- 
tion and  had  left  this  part  of  the  country  some 
time  in  the  last  summer,  but  no  one  could  be 
found  who  recollected  exactly  whether  or  not 
he  had  been  on  the  Kefford  farm  at  the  date 
of  the  will.  Of  course  it  was  very  necessary  to 
find  Farris.  If  he  could  testify  that  he  had 
witnessed  the  will  it  would  be  an  advantage- 
ous thing  for  Doctor  Latimer,  and  if  he  could 
testify  that  he  had  not  witnessed  such  a  will, 
it  would  be  equally  advantageous  for  the  con- 
testants. 

Inquiries  regarding  the  whereabouts  of 
Reuben  Farris  were  now  set  on  foot.  It  was 
known  that  he  had  gone  West,  and  that  he  had 
relatives  in  Missouri.  In  the  meantime  there 
turned  up  an  old  woman  in  Satbury  who  felt 
quite  certain  that  Reuben  .Farris  had  put  a 


STRUCK  BY  A  BOOMERANG          151 

hinge  on  her  garden  gate  early  in  August,  and 
she  thought  it  was  about  the  tenth  of  August 
of  the  preceding  year.  She  based  this  belief 
upon  the  fact  that  while,  he  was  at  work  upon 
the  gate  he  remarked  that  he  had  not  yet  seen 
tomatoes  so  nearly  ripe  as  those  in  her  little 
patch,  and  she  was  of  the  opinion  that  she  had 
had  ripe  tomatoes  very  early  in  August.  As 
she  could  swear  to  no  part  of  her  belief,  having 
a  poor  memory  for  exact  dates,  no  legal  notice 
could  be  taken  of  her  opinions,  especially  as 
one  of  her  neighbors  asserted  that  he  had 
gathered  ripe  tomatoes  on  the  second  day  in 
August,  and  therefore,  if  Mrs.  Budlong  had 
had  good  success  with  her  tomatoes,  Reuben 
Farris  might  have  made  his  remarks  concern- 
ing them  considerably  earlier  than  August 
the  tenth. 

But  although  the  opinions  of  Mrs.  Budlong 
and  her  neighbor  did  not  possess  a  legal  value, 
they  made  an  impression  in  Camborough.  So 
little  was  known  about  Farris,  even  in  Sat- 
bury,  that  the  incident  of  the  gate-hinge  was 
considered  of  importance,  giving  some  rea- 
son to  believe  that  the  second  witness  had  been 
in  the  vicinity  of  the  Kefford  f ami  on  or  about 
the  tenth  of  August. 


152          STRUCK  BY  A  BOOMERANG 

Reuben  Farris  was  finally  discovered  to  be 
living  in  St.  Louis,  and,  having  been  offered 
his  travelling  expenses  and  something  besides 
if  he  would  come  and  give  some  desired  testi- 
mony in  regard  to  old  Kefford's  property,  he 
readily  consented,  and  set  out  without  loss  of 
time.  It  must  be  mentioned  that  Doctor  Lati- 
mer  insisted  upon  bearing  part  of  the  expenses 
of  bringing  Farris  to  Camborough.  He  de- 
clared that  he  desired  more  than  anyone  else 
that  everything  in  relation  to  the  will  should 
be  made  clear  and  plain.  This  was  somewhat 
disheartening  to  the  Kefford  interest.  They 
would  have  preferred  that  the  doctor  should 
have  the  desire  that  Farris  should  not  testify. 

On  the  twenty-first  day  of  August,  about 
half-past  nine  in  the  evening,  Reuben  Farris 
arrived  at  Camborough.  He  had  been  told  to 
report  at  the  Mansion  House,  and  the  nearest 
way  from  the  station  to  that  hotel  was  through 
Decatur  Street,  a  small  street  in  the  business 
part  of  the  town  and  very  little  frequented  at 
night.  About  quarter  past  ten  two  men  hur- 
rying through  Decatur  Street  to  make  a  short 
cut,  because  the  night  was  dark  and  rainy, 
nearly  stumbled  upon  a  man  lying  upon  the 
sidewalk,  apparently  dead.  When  assistance 


STRUCK  BY  A  BOOMERANG          153 

had  been  called,  and  the  man  had  been  con- 
veyed to  the  station-house,  it  was  found  that 
he  was  Reuben  Farris. 

This  occurrence  created  great  excitement  in 
Camborough.  Farris  was  not  dead,  but  had 
been  stunned  by  a  terrible  blow  on  the  head. 
There  had  been  a  murderous  assault  upon  him, 
and  such  a  crime  was  almost  unknown  in  Cam- 
borough.  It  is  true  that  Decatur  Street  was 
lonely,  that  the  night  was  dark  and  rainy,  but 
no  one,  even  a  woman,  would  have  been  afraid 
to  make  a  short  cut  through  that  street  at  any 
hour.  There  was  a  hospital  in  Camborough, 
and  thither  Farris  was  conveyed.  Surgical  ex- 
amination revealed  the  fact  that  the  man  had 
been  struck  almost  on  the  exact  top  of  the 
head  with  some  heavy  object,  and  in  such  a 
way  as  to  make  a  circular  fracture  in  his  skull 
nearly  two  inches  in  diameter,  breaking  both 
plates  of  the  skull  and  pressing  the  detached 
piece  of  bone  against  the  brain,  thus  causing 
insensibility. 

The  terrible  blow  which  had  occasioned 
this  fracture  had  evidently  been  given  for  the 
purpose  of  killing  the  man,  and  there  could 
be  no  idea  of  robbery  connected  with  the  case. 
Farris's  valise,  which  he  had  carried  in  his 


154          STRUCK  BY  A  BOOMERANG 

hand,  was  found  unopened  by  his  side.  He 
had  money  in  his  pocket  and  his  silver  watch 
was  undisturbed.  All  the  surgical  talent  of 
the  town  was  gathered  together  at  the  hospital, 
and,  although  the  wound  was  considered  a 
most  serious  one,  it  was  thought  possible  that 
the  man's  life  might  be  saved. 

For  the  greater  part  of  the  night  this  mur- 
derous business  in  Camborough  was  discussed, 
and  early  the  next  morning  I  went  to  the 
sheriff's  office,  where  I  found  a  number  of  the 
town  officers  and  lawyers  of  the  place.  Of 
course  they  were  all  talking  about  the  terrible 
assault  on  Farris.  He  was  still  alive  and  an 
operation  had  been  performed,  but  the  doctors 
were  not  at  all  certain  of  the  result.  The  small 
police  force  of  the  town  had  been  busy  nearly 
all  night,  but  they  had  nothing  to  report. 

Upon  one  point  everybody  was  agreed,  and 
this  was  that  the  assault  was  very  nearly  re- 
lated to  the  Kefford  will  case.  Here  was  a  man 
who  had  come  to  town  for  the  purpose  of  testi- 
fying in  that  case.  Someone  had  wished  to 
prevent  him  from  testifying,  and  had  struck 
him  down.  This  seemed  plain  enough,  but 
beyond,  all  was  dark  and  mystery.  Of  course 
it  was  natural  to  think  of  Doctor  Latimer  in 


STRUCK  BY  A  BOOMERANG         155 

connection  with  the  matter.  He  was  a  party 
to  the  will  case,  and,  moreover,  people  did  not 
like  him;  but  two  citizens  who  had  been  sent 
out  to  the  Institution  soon  after  the  crime  had 
been  discovered,  ostensibly  to  give  the  news 
to  the  superintendent,  but  really  to  find  out  if 
he  were  there,  had  found  him  in  bed  and  had 
greatly  shocked  him  by  the  account  of  the 
assault  upon  Farris.  They  also  discovered,  by 
adroit  remarks  to  the  attendants,  that  the  doc- 
tor had  been  at  home  all  the  evening". 

When  the  doctor  came  to  town,  early  the 
next  morning,  everybody  could  see  that  the 
unfortunate  affair  had  had  a  great  effect  upon 
him.  He  did  not  hesitate  to  say  that  if  Far- 
ris did  not  recover  his  case  would  be  lost. 
Without  the  testimony  of  that  witness  it 
would  be  impossible  to  prove  the  validity  of 
Nicholas  Kefford's  will.  Everything  in  re- 
gard to  himself,  the  true  legatee  of  Nicholas 
Kefford,  had  depended  upon  Reuben  Farris. 

A  great  deal  of  detective  work  was  now  be- 
gun in  the  town  by  amateurs  as  well  as  lawyers. 
The  wound  in  Farris's  head  was  a  very  peculiar 
one.  Probably  it  had  been  inflicted  with  some 
heavy  instrument,  such  as  a  hammer,  but  it 
was  found  that  it  would  not  be  easy,  with  even 


156          STRUCK  BY  A  BOOMERANG 

a  very  large  hammer,  to  make  such  a  fracture 
in  the  skull  of  a  man.  The  indented  portion  of 
bone  had  been  forced  down  so  evenly,  no  part 
of  its  circular  edge  having  descended  deeper 
than  any  other  part,  that  it  was  certain  that 
the  handle  of  the  weapon  which  inflicted  it 
must  have  been  in  nearly  a  horizontal  position. 
Now,  a  man  standing  on  the  ground  and  strik- 
ing the  head  of  another  man  as  tall  as  Reuben 
Farris  could  not  hold  a  hammer  in  that  po- 
sition. Many  experiments  with  hammers 
proved  that  such  an  instrument,  wielded  by  a 
person  of  ordinary  height,  would  strike  the 
second  person's  skull  with  the  edge  of  its  lower 
surface  nearest  to  the  handle.  To  strike  the 
top  of  a  man's  head  with  the  bottom  surface 
of  the  hammer-head  held  perfectly  horizontal 
would  be  difficult,  and  would  prevent  the  full 
force  of  the  blow.  It  was  evident,  therefore, 
that  the  man  who  had  struck  Farris  with  a 
hammer  must  have  stood  higher  than  his  vic- 
tim. 

This  conclusion  led  to  f uitfher  investigation : 
was  there  anything  in  Decatur  Street,  near 
the  place  of  the  assault,  on  which  the  person 
who  struck  Farris  could  have  stood  at  a  suffi- 
cient height  to  make  a  horizontal  blow?  Such 


STRUCK  BY  A  BOOMERANG          157 

a  place  was  soon  found.  Decatur  Street  at  the 
place  where  the  assault  had  occurred  ran  at  the 
back  of  a  large  building  three  stories  high, 
which  contained  offices  of  lawyers  and  busi- 
ness men.  The  back  windows  on  the  first  floor 
of  this  building  were  about  four  feet  from 
the  ground.  If  one  of  these  were  open,  it 
might  be  possible  for  a  man  with  a  hammer 
in  his  hand  to  reach  out  into  the  street  and 
strike  a  horizontal  blow  upon  the  head  of  an- 
other man  upon  the  sidewalk.  Such  a  win- 
dow directly  overlooked  the  scene  of  the  as- 
sault, and  the  two  men  who  nearly  stumbled 
over  the  body  of  Farris  were  now  quite  certain 
that  when  they  made  the  terrible  discovery 
this  window  was  open,  because  one  of  them, 
in  looking  about  to  call  for  assistance,  had 
shouted  into  it.  Everything  was  dark  inside, 
but  he  thought  someone  might  hear  him. 
This  window  was  in  the  back  office  of  Mr. 
Archibald  Kefford. 

When  this  stage  of  the  investigation  had 
been  reached,  it  made  me  perfectly  furious  to 
see  how  people  looked  at  each  other  and  said 
nothing.  But  I  did  not  say  anything;  I  would 
remain  silent  forever  rather  than  even  hint 
at  the  diabolical  idea  which  seemed  to  come 
into  other  people's  minds. 


158          STRUCK  BY  A  BOOMERANG 

I  went  that  morning  to  Mr.  Kefford's  office, 
but  he  was  not  there.  Then  I  went  across  the 
street  to  a  carpenter's  shop  and  borrowed  a 
hammer,  the  largest  one  I  could  find.  With 
this  I  repaired  to  Mr.  Kefford's  back  room. 
The  window  was  open,  for  the  weather  was 
warm.  I  leaned  out  with  the  hammer  in  my 
hand  and  I  found  that  it  would  have  been  very 
difficult  for  me  to  reach,  with  the  head  of  the 
hammer,  the  head  of  a  man  walking  on  the 
sidewalk.  An  iron  railing  about  two  feet  from 
the  wall  of  the  building  separated  it  from  the 
sidewalk,  and  unless  the  man  assaulted  should 
stand  up  close  to  that  railing,  a  person  at  the 
window  could  not  reach  him  with  a  hammer. 
Farris  had  not  been  found  close  to  the  railing, 
he  had  been  found  in  the  middle  of  the  side- 
walk. 

I  summoned  several  persons  and  proved,  by 
experiments  which  I  made  myself  and  which 
I  urged  them  to  make,  that  if  any  ruffian  had 
made  his  way  into  Mr.  Kefford's  back  office, 
he  could  not,  even  with  the  largest  hammer, 
have  struck  a  passer-by  on  the  top  of  the  head. 
I  insisted  that  the  notion  that  Farris  had  been 
struck  from  that  window  was  so  utterly  pre- 
posterous and  absurd  that  it  ought  to  be  im- 
mediately abandoned. 


STRUCK  BY  A  BOOMERANG         159 

Before  that  night,  however,  I  discovered 
that  a  good  many  people  were  saying  that  it 
was  a  very  strange  coincidence  that  the  man 
Farris  should  have  been  struck  down  under 
the  very  window  of  a  person  whose  interests 
might  have  been  very  greatly  advanced  by 
the  death  of  said  Farris.  The  more  people 
thought  about  it,  the  plainer  it  was  to  see  that 
if  the  only  surviving  witness  to  the  signature 
of  the  will  should  not  be  able  to  swear  he 
saw  Nicholas  Kefford  sign  it,  the  will  would 
be  considered  invalid,  and  the  property  would 
go  to  the  natural  heirs  of  the  testator. 

Some  days  passed  on.  Farris  remained  in- 
sensible, often  delirious,  and  in  a  precarious 
condition.  Natalie  wondered  at  the  effect  this 
occurrence  had  had  upon  me.  She  believed 
that  lawyers  thought  a  great  deal  more  about 
such  things  tjian  did  other  people,  and  she 
was  sorry  for  it.  She  did  not  think  lawyers 
should  allow  their  lives  to  be  darkened  by 
events  which  concerned  only  other  people. 
She  had  not  heard  of  the  notions  and  the  sup- 
positions connected  with  the  window  of  her 
father's  back  office. 

Mr.  Kefford  did  not  publicly  insist,  as  Lati- 
mer  had  done,  that  the  death  of  this  witness 


160          STRUCK  BY  A  BOOMERANG 

would  have  a  disastrous  effect  upon  his  in- 
terests, for  it  would  not  be  the  impulse  of  a 
humane  man  to  make  that  feature  of  the  affair 
prominent.  This  reticence  regarding  the  con- 
sequences of  the  affair  was  commented  upon 
by  several  persons  who  thought  that  silence  in 
such  a  case  showed  an  effort  to  conceal  a  cer- 
tain satisfaction  in  the  disability  of  Farris  to 
give  testimony.  It  is  wonderful  how  people 
whose  minds  are  not  naturally  evil  will,  in 
cases  like  this,  pick  at  this  little  thing  and  that 
little  thing,  thinking  that  by  so  doing  they 
will  expose  depravity  in  spots  where  it  was  not 
supposed  to  exist. 

On  the  morning  after  I  had  made  my  ex- 
periments with  the  hammer  from  the  window 
of  Mr.  Kefford's  office,  Mr.  Shallcross  was 
walking  from  his  home  to  his  office,  and  on  the 
way  he  met  a  man  named  Hatch.  Hatch  was 
a  poor  man  who  lived  on  the  edge  of  the  town, 
and  he  was  now  proceeding  in  the  direction 
of  his  home,  carrying  upon  his  shoulder  a  car- 
penter's adze. 

"  Good-morning,  Hatch;  are  you  going  to 
build  a  house?  "  said  Mr.  Shallcross. 

"  Oh,  no,"  replied  the  other,  stopping,  "  I 
haven't  got  so  far  as  that  yet.  All  the  im- 


STRUCK  BY  A  BOOMERANG          161 

provement  I'm  plannin'  for  this  season  is  a 
new  step  for  my  back  door,  and  I've  got  a 
log  up  there  that  I'm  going  to  hew  square. 
That's  the  cheapest  way  of  makin'  a  step  when 
you've  got  the  log.  I've  just  been  up  to  Mr. 
Kefford's  to  borrow  his  adze." 

"  Mr.  Kefford's!  "  said  Shallcross.  "  What 
is  he  doing  with  an  adze? " 

"  Oh,  he's  got  a  regular  carpenter's  shop 
in  his  yard,"  said  Hatch,  "  and  I  often  go  up 
there  to  borrow  his  tools.  It's  a  lot  cheaper 
than  buyin'  'em." 

"  For  all  that,"  said  Shallcross,  taking  the 
adze  from  the  man  and  looking  at  it,  "  I  should 
think  it  would  pay  you  to  keep  tools  like  this. 
You  would  make  up  the  cost  by  saving  time." 

"  But  I  haven't  got  the  cost,  and  I  have  got 
the  time,"  said  Hatch,  smiling  good-humored- 
ly.  "  There's  where  the  difference  comes  in." 

As  the  two  spoke,  Mr.  Shallcross  carefully 
examined  the  adze.  On  one  end  of  its  large 
iron  head  was  a  curved  blade,  while  the  other 
was  shaped  like  a  hammer.  The  striking  sur- 
face of  the  hammer-end  was  round  and  meas- 
ured about  two  inches  in  diameter.  Making  a 
mental  calculation  of  the  length  of  the  handle, 
he  thought  it  was  a  little  over  three  feet. 


162          STRUCK  BY  A  BOOMERANG 

"  There  is  some  sense  in  what  you  say, 
Hatch,"  said  Mr.  Shallcross,  returning  the  tool. 
"  Anyway,  you  get  a  doorstep  for  nothing." 

As  soon  as  Mr.  Shallcross  reached  his  office, 
which  was  in  the  same  building  as  that  of  Mr. 
Kefford,  he  went  into  his  back  room  and 
opened  his  window,  which  looked  out  upon 
Decatur  Street.  Then  from  some  umbrellas 
and  canes  which  stood  in  the  corner  he  se- 
lected a  walking-stick  a  little  over  three  feet 
long,  and  with  a  large,  heavy  head.  Stepping 
to  the  open  window  Mr.  Shallcross  put  his  arm 
out  of  it,  holding  the  cane  by  its  lower  end, 
and  found  that  he  could  easily  extend  the  head 
of  the  stick  to  the  middle  of  the  sidewalk.  It 
would  require  a  strong  arm  to  handle  an  adze 
in  this  way,  but  Mr.  Shallcross  believed  that 
a  man  meditating  murder  and  standing  at  a 
window  expecting  the  approach  of  his  intended 
victim,  who  would  be  likely  to  make  this  short 
cut  from  the  station,  would  be  so  excited  as  to 
be  fully  able  to  strike  such  a  blow  as  that  which 
felled  Reuben  Earns  to  the  ground. 

In  the  matter  of  the  will,  Mr.  Kefford  was 
the  client  of  Mr.  Shallcross.  Moreover  they 
were  very  good  friends,  and  it  could  not  be 
supposed  that  the  latter  gentleman  would  rush 


STRUCK  BY  A  BOOMERANG          163 

into  the  office  of  the  first  named  and  explain 
to  him  his  suppositions  and  experiments  re- 
garding the  adze,  but  he  did  speak  of  them  to 
some  people;  his  conscience  would  not  allow 
him  to  keep  silent,  and — why  this  should  have 
been  I  could  not  imagine — I  was  one  of  those 
persons. 

When  Mr.  Shallcross  had  spoken  to  me  of 
what  he  had  done,  and  of  what  he  felt  bound 
to  suspect,  I  became  exceedingly  angry.  It 
seemed  to  me  that  people — even  the  kindest 
and  most  honorable — were  racking  their  brains 
to  make  horrors  out  of  trifles.  I  concealed  my 
feelings  as  well  as  I  could,  for  I  did  not  wish 
to  quarrel;  but  with  the  intent  to  prove  to  Mr. 
Shallcross  that  the  blow  he  had  summoned  out 
of  the  regions  of  his  imagination  could  not 
have  been  made  with  an  adze,  I  went  to  a  hard- 
ware store.  There  I  found  that  the  adze  heads 
were  sold  separately  from  the  handles,  and 
while  I  was  looking  at  some  of  the  former  I 
noticed  that  their  hammer-ends  had  square 
surfaces.  I  looked  at  others  and  others;  the 
hammer-ends  were  all  square.  Then  I  asked 
the  dealer  if  he  had  any  with  round  hammer- 
ends,  to  which  he  replied  that  they  were  not 
made  in  that  way. 


164:          STRUCK  BY  A  BOOMERANG 

At  another  place  where  they  sold  hardware 
I  examined  adze  heads;  their  hammer-ends 
were  square.  I  went  into  a  carpenter's  shop 
and  talked  to  the  man  about  putting  up  some 
shelves  in  my  office.  While  we  were  speak- 
ing, my  eyes  rambled  about  in  search  of  adzes. 
I  saw  one;  its  hammer  end  was  square. 

I  did  not  return  to  Mr.  Shallcross's  office. 
Depressed,  instead  of  encouraged,  I  went  to 
my  own.  From  what  I  had  seen  of  adzes  and 
from  what  I  knew  of  the  length  of  their  han- 
dles, I  could  not  but  believe  that  a  strong  man 
could  reach  out  of  the  window  and  strike  a  fall- 
ing blow  with  one.  It  was  certain  that  Mr. 
Archibald  Kefford  owned  an  adze  the  hammer- 
end  of  which  had  a  round  surface  about  two 
inches  in  diameter,  and  which  was  unlike  any 
other  in  the  town.  For  an  hour,  at  least,  I 
sat  and  thought.  To  suspect  the  father  of 
Natalie  of  a  murderous  assault  was  impossible 
for  me,  but  it  was  plain  as  daylight  that  other 
people  were  doing  that  thing.  The  conse- 
quence of  their  suspicions  would  be  terrible, 
would  be  awful  beyond  comprehension,  if  Reu- 
ben Farris  should  die ! 

In  the  case  of  his  assault  it  was  not  prob- 
able that  I  would  be  asked  to  take  part  in  any 


STRUCK  BY  A  BOOMERANG          165 

way,  but  in  it  I  determined  to  take  part.  I 
would  devote  myself  entirely  and  wholly,  by 
night  and  by  day,  with  mind  and  body,  even 
with  money  if  necessary,  to  the  discovery  of 
the  assassin  of  Keuben  Farris  and  to  the  re- 
moval of  every  suspicion  from  the  father  of 
Natalie.  I  knew  as  well  as  I  knew  anything 
that  these  two  objects  were  the  same. 

The  business  of  a  detective  is  fascinating 
to  a  great  many  people,  and  it  had  always  been 
so  to  me,  but  now  it  possessed  an  interest  which 
overshadowed  every  other  earthly  purpose. 
Apart  from  my  desire  to  further  the  ends  of 
justice,  I  was  going  to  enter  the  field  in  de- 
fence of  the  future  of  Natalie,  in  defence  of 
my  own  future.  If  unjust  fate  crushed  her 
father,  it  would,  through  her,  crush  me.  She 
might  never  know  it,  but  I  should  be  crushed. 
I  rose  to  my  feet  and  swore  that  I  would  find 
the  man  who  had  committed  the  dastardly 
crime. 

In  planning  my  search  for  the  assassin,  my 
mind  naturally  inclined  to  the  direction  of 
Doctor  Latimer,  but  reason  soon  told  me  this 
was  foolish.  The  man  had  been  at  home  in 
Satbury  during  the  whole  of  the  night  of  the 
assault.  But  he  might  have  employed  some 


166         STRUCK  BY  A  BOOMERANG 

one  to  do  the  deed!  This,  to  my  mind,  was 
the  most  natural  aspect  of  the  case. 

As  a  probable  instrument  of  Latimer's  vil- 
lainy, I  thought  of  the  man  Hatch.  It  would 
have  been  a  good  scheme  for  Hatch  to  station 
himself  in  the  back  office  of  Mr.  Kefford, 
into  which  he  could  easily  have  climbed  from 
outside,  and  it  would  have  been  very  prudent 
for  him  to  supply  himself  with  a  peculiar  adze 
belonging  to  Mr.  Kefford.  Of  course  he  would 
have  returned  it  after  he  had  used  it,  so  if  an 
immediate  search  were  made  it  would  have 
been  found  in  Mr.  Kefford's  possession.  But 
I  also  considered  that  a  little  later,  Latimer 
might  have  thought  it  wise  to  prevent  Mr.  Kef- 
ford  from  concealing  this  adze  and  to  have  it 
removed  to  Hatch's  house,  where  it  would  be 
kept  ready  to  produce  in  case  Mr.  Kefford 
should  be  brought  to  trial  for  the  assault  upon 
Farris. 

That  afternoon  I  walked  out  to  Hatch's 
house.  He  was  not  at  home,  but  in  the  back- 
yard there  was  a  log,  one  side  partly  hewn,  and 
by  it  stood  the  adze  which  he  had  borrowed. 
I  went  to  it;  I  examined  it;  I  measured  the 
diameter  of  its  hammer-head.  Mr.  Shallcross 
had  been  correct — the  diameter  was  about  two 
inches. 


STRUCK  BY  A  BOOMERANG         167 

I  stood  and  looked  at  the  adze.  The  thought 
came  into  my  mind  that  perhaps  it  would  be 
a  good  thing  to  take  it  and  hurl  it  into  a  creek 
which  ran  near  by,  to  do  anything  to  hide  it 
and  get  rid  of  it.  But  a  moment's  reflection 
told  me  that  this  would  be  foolish,  and  in  the 
next  moment  :an  incident  made  me  under- 
stand that  it  would  be  impossible.  A  man 
dressed  in  ordinary  clothes,  but  whose  face  was 
familiar  to  me  as  a  policeman,  approached  me 
and  carelessly  remarked  that  he  supposed  I 
had  come  out  to  look  at  the  adze.  The  lawyers 
had  been  talking  a  good  deal  about  it,  he  said, 
and  he  had  been  sent  out  there  to  keep  an  eye 
on  it. 

"  There  is  nobody  at  home,  now,"  said  he, 
"  but  I  shall  stay  around  here,  keepin'  out  of 
sight,  and  watch  for  anybody  who  comes  to 
talk  about  it.  I  guess  there  will  be  somebody 
or  other  who  will  take  enough  interest  in  that 
adze  to  come  soon  and  see  Hatch  about  it;  at 
least,  that  is  the  opinion  in  town." 

I  made  some  casual  remarks  about  the  ad- 
visability of  keeping  an  eye  upon  everything 
that  might  possibly  be  connected  with  the  case, 
but  I  said  nothing  which  might  help  anyone 
who  had  suspicions  of  Hatch.  If  he  had  any- 


168         STRUCK  BY  A  BOOMERANG 

thing  to  do  with  the  assault,  I  wanted  to  be 
the  man  to  find  it  out  and  fix  the  crime  upon 
him.  I  spoke  as  if  I  thought  the  adze  of  little 
importance,  and  soon  left  the  place. 

I  continued  my  walk  for  a  little  distance 
and  then  crossed  the  creek  by  a  bridge,  in  order 
that  I  might  return  to  town  through  the  woods. 
On  the  bridge  was  a  boy,  fishing.  From  my 
early  youth  I  had  been  fond  of  fishing,  and  I 
stopped  to  watch  him.  The  stream  was  quite 
deep  here  and  he  was  fishing  for  catfish,  which 
swim  near  the  bottom. 

Presently  he  felt  a  bite  and  gave  a  jerk. 
Then  he  began  to  haul  up  his  line. 

"  I  guess  I've  got  one,"  said  he. 

"  From  the  way  you  pull  up,"  I  remarked, 
"  it  must  be  a  pretty  big  fish." 

"Don't  know  about  that,"  said  the  boy; 
"  I've  got  to  pull  this  line  hard  whether  any- 
thing is  on  or  not."  And  as  he  said  this  the 
end  of  his  line  came  up  above  the  water  and 
he  swung  it  onto  the  bridge.  Fast  to  the  hook 
was  a  little  catfish  seven  or  eight  inches  long. 

"  You  see,"  said  the  boy,  "  why  it  is  a  pretty 
heavy  line  to  pull  up." 

The  boy  took  off  his  fish,  and  I  stooped  and 
examined  the  fishing-tackle,  which  lay  on  the 
floor  of  the  bridge. 


STRUCK  BY  A  BOOMERANG          169 

"  Where  did  you  buy  this?"  I  asked  the 
boy,  who  was  putting  his  fish  upon  a  string 
with  a  few  others. 

"  I  didn't  buy  it,"  he  said;   "  I  found  it." 

"Where?  "I  asked. 

"  In  a  gutter,"  said  he. 

I  asked  a  few  more  questions  and  then  I 
said :  "  I'd  like  to  fish ;  will  you  sell  me  your 
line?  I'll  give  you  fifty  cents  for  it."  The 
boy  looked  at  me,  astonished.  If  I  had  said  ten 
cents  he  would  probably  have  thought  it  a 
good  offer. 

"  All  right,"  said  he,  "  you  can  have  it  for 
that." 

I  handed  him  a  half  dollar,  and  then,  ap- 
parently afraid  that  I  might  reconsider  the 
bargain,  he  said  that  he  guessed  he  had  bet- 
ter hurry  home  if  he  wanted  to  get  his 
fish  cooked  that  day,  and  he  forthwith  de- 
parted. 

I  stood  upon  the  bridge,  seeing  nothing  that 
was  about  me,  but  with  my  brain  filled  with  a 
tumultuous  crowd  of  ideas  which  seemed  in- 
tent upon  driving  out  my  reason  and  my  senses. 
These  ideas  soon  formed  themselves  into  a  reg- 
ular sequence  with  a  horrible  and  awful  con- 
clusion which  chilled  me  as  if  I  had  been  sud- 
denly turned  into  ice. 


170         STRUCK  BY  A  BOOMERANG 

I  now  knew  that  my  work  as  a  detective  had 
suddenly  come  to  an  end.  I  had  succeeded  in 
my  search  for  the  man  who  had  stricken  Reu- 
ben Farris  to  the  earth,  who,  perhaps,  had 
murdered  him. 

That  man  was  no  other  than  myself. 


II. 


Motionless,  I  stood  upon  the  bridge,  hold- 
ing in  my  hand  the  fishing-tackle  I  had 
purchased  from  the  boy,  still  that  awful  pro- 
cession passing  through  my  brain,  always  end- 
ing with  the  figure  of  Reuben  Farris  stretched 
on  his  bed  in  the  hospital.  My  mind  was 
stunned.  I  seemed  to  have  lost  the  power  of 
thinking;  I  was  merely  the  prey  of  thoughts 
which  came  to  me  unbidden  and  relentless. 

Suddenly  I  heard  a  rustling  sound;  I 
started,  frightened;  it  was  but  a  bird  flying 
out  of  a  bush,  but  it  startled  me  into  my  senses. 
I  knew  I  was  frightened.  Quickly  I  cut  the 
leaden  sinker  from  the  fishing-line  and  threw 
the  latter  with  its  hooks  into  the  water.  Then 
with  the  sinker  in  my  hand,  and  my  hand  in 
my  pocket,  I  walked  toward  the  town. 


STRUCK  BY  A  BOOMERANG          171 

No  chain  of  events  could  be  clearer  or  bet- 
ter defined  than  those  which  led  from  me  to 
the  man  in  the  hospital.  I  had  always  been 
fond  of  fishing,  and  before  I  came  to  Cam- 
borough  I  used  to  fish  a  good  deal  for  perch  in 
the  Delaware  River,  using  a  very  peculiar 
tackle  called  a  bow  line  or  dipsy  line.  This 
apparatus,  which  was  intended  to  catch  several 
fish  at  once,  was  lowered  to  the  sandy  bars 
frequented  by  perch,  by  means  of  a  leaden 
sinker,  generally  called  a  dipsy  lead,  very 
heavy  and  of  conical  form,  its  broad  base  en- 
abling it  to  rest  upright  upon  the  bottom.  I 
did  not  use  a  bow  line,  but  among  my  effects  I 
had  found  a  dipsy  lead  which  for  some  time 
had  done  service  in  my  office  as  a  paper  weight. 

On  the  evening  of  August  21st  I  had  been 
sitting  in  my  office,  which  was  on  the  third 
floor  of  the  building  in  which  the  rooms  of  Mr. 
Kefford  were  situated.  I  was  not  in  a  pleasant 
humor;  my  mind  was  irritated,  and  it  an- 
noyed me  to  think  that  it  was  so.  I  had  been 
more  deeply  touched  by  the  manner  in  which 
I  had  been  ignored  in  the  matter  of  Nicholas 
Kefford's  will  than  I  had  supposed.  With  the 
Kefford  family  and  with  everyone  else,  I  had 
endeavored  to  treat  the  matter  as  if  it  were 


172          STRUCK  BY  A  BOOMERANG 

quite  natural  that  I  should  not  be  retained  or 
consulted  regarding  the  affair;  but  when  I 
found  myself  alone  in  my  office,  I  could  not 
treat  it  in  that  way.  I  was  very  much  vexed 
and  piqued. 

Suddenly  my  cogitations  were  broken  in 
upon  by  the  lugubrious  wail  of  a  cat  in  the 
street  below  me.  This  sound  was  a  disagree- 
able one  to  me  at  all  times,  but  in  my  present 
state  of  mind  it  enraged  me.  I  seized  the  first 
heavy  object  which  came  to  hand — which  hap- 
pened to  be  the  dipsy  lead — and  rushing  to 
the  open  window  I  looked  out.  There  I  saw 
in  the  darkness  below  a  light-colored  object 
moving  on  the  sidewalk.  Instantly  I  hurled 
my  dipsy  lead  at  it  with  all  my  strength.  I 
heard  a  thud,  but  whether  my  missile  had  hit 
its  object  or  had  merely  struck  the  sidewalk, 
which  in  this  back  street  was  not  paved,  but 
covered  with  gravel,  I  did  not  know,  nor  did  I 
care.  I  could  not  see  into  the  darkness,  and  if 
I  had  driven  the  cat  away  I  was  satisfied.  I 
returned  to  my  table  and  my  thoughts,  and 
soon  afterward  went  out. 

IsTot  until  I  had  stood  on  the  bridge  by  the 
side  of  the  boy,  gazing  with  astonishment  at 
the  heavy  lead  which  was  attached  to  his  little 


STRUCK  BY  A  BOOMERANG          173 

line,  and  which  I  knew  to  be  my  own  as  soon 
as  my  eyes  fell  upon  it  (for  I  had  moulded  it 
myself,  after  a  fashion  which  suited  me),  had 
I  remembered  what  had  occurred  in  my  office 
on  that  fatal  evening;  but  when  the  boy  had 
told  me  that  he  had  found  this  dipsy  lead  in  a 
gutter,  and  when,  upon  further  questioning,  he 
said  that  it  was  in  a  gutter  in  Decatur  Street, 
just  back  of  the  office  buildings,  and  that  he 
had  found  it  on  the  day  after  what  he  called 
"  the  Farris  murder,"  I  had  remembered 
everything. 

Reuben  Farris  had  worn  a  light-colored  felt 
hat,  and  when  I  had  looked  out  into  the  dark- 
ness below  my  window  I  had  seen  nothing  but 
this  hat  moving  beneath  me.  At  this  hat  I 
had  hurled  my  dipsy  lead,  and  it  had  struck 
Farris  fair  on  the  top  of  the  head,  the  broad, 
flat  bottom  of  the  leaden  cone  coming  hori- 
zontally downward  because  it  was  the  heaviest 
part  of  the  sinker.  It  had  broken  through  the 
skull  of  the  unfortunate  man,  forcing  down- 
ward not  only  a  circular  piece  of  the  skull  but 
that  part  of  the  hat  with  which  it  came  in  con- 
tact. As  I  had  noticed  when  examining  the 
hat,  the  impression  of  the  heavy  object  with 
which  Farris  had  been  struck  down  was  well 


174          STRUCK  BY  A  BOOMERANG 

marked.  The  lead  had  rolled  off  into  the  gut- 
ter, where  the  boy  had  found  it  the  next  day. 

I  reached  the  town  and  hurried  to  my  office, 
fortunately  meeting  no  one.  I  went  into  the 
building  by  a  back  way,  and  as  I  passed  the 
place  where  Farris  had  fallen,  I  shuddered  as 
if  I  had  seen  the  accusing  blood  from  the 
wound  of  a  corpse. 

The  first  thing  I  did  when  I  reached  my 
room  was  to  measure  the  lower  surface  of  the 
dipsy  lead.  It  was  exactly  one  inch  and  seven- 
eighths  in  diameter.  This,  allowing  for  a 
thickness  of  felt  all  around  the  bottom 'edge 
of  the  lead,  would  probably  make  a  fracture 
two  inches  wide.  With  Mr.  Kefford's  adze 
the  circular  fracture  would  have  been  some- 
what larger.  Every  link  in  my  chain  of  events 
was  perfect. 

The  dipsy  lead  still  in  my  hand,  I  sat  in 
my  room  and  asked  myself  what  I  was  to  do 
now.  My  first  impulse  after  measuring  the 
lead  had  been  to  hurry  to  the  court-house  and 
tell  the  sheriff  exactly  what  had  happened ;  to 
free  the  father  of  Natalie  from  all  suspicion, 
and  to  show  that  the  blood  of  Reuben  Farris 
was  on  my  hands — innocent  hands  as  I  had 
always  supposed  them  to  be. 


STRUCK  BY  A  BOOMERANG          175 

But  the  remembrance  of  the  words  used  by 
the  boy  made  me  hesitate.  If  this  should  be 
murder,  if  Reuben  Farris  should  now  be  dead, 
or  should  die,  what  then? 

What  I  had  done  was  a  piece  of  criminal  and 
unpardonable  carelessness,  followed  by  the 
most  terrible  injury  to  a  fellow-man.  If  the 
case  should  be  regarded  in  that  light  by  the 
authorities,  I  ought  to  be  willing  to  suffer  any 
punishment  which  the  law  might  inflict,  and 
if  this  punishment  should  be  in  the  shape  of 
damages  to  Farris  should  he  recover,  I  would 
most  cheerfully  accept  the  penalty  and  sacri- 
fice, if  necessary,  all  the  property  from  which 
I  derived  my  income. 

But  if  Reuben  Farris  did  not  recover, 
the  case  would  be  very  different.  Then  it 
would  be  a  matter  of  life  and  death  to  me  to 
prove  that  when  I  hurled  from  my  window 
that  heavy  leaden  missile,  I  thought  I  was 
throwing  it  at  a  cat,  and  not  at  the  head  of  a 
man.  It  was  generally  believed  that  the  as- 
sailant of  Farris  had  been  waiting  for  him  at 
an  open  window,  knowing  that  he  would  prob- 
ably come  along  Decatur  Street.  Why  should 
not  I  have  been  waiting  for  him  at  an  open 
window  far  above  him  and  safe  from  observa- 


176          STRUCK  BY  A  BOOMERANG 

tion?  Everybody  knew  that  I  had  a  great  in- 
terest in  the  Kefford  will  case,  and  conse- 
quently in  the  appearance  or  non-appearance 
of  the  man  who  had  been  sent  for  to  testify 
in  that  case.  I  had  frequently  discussed 
the  matter  with  my  acquaintances  in  the  law 
and  out  of  it,  and  I  did  so  the  more  zealously 
because  by  avoiding  the  subject  I  might  have 
led  persons  to  suppose  that  my  feelings  were 
hurt.  It  was  known,  too,  that  I  was  paying 
attentions  to  Miss  Kefford,  and  that  I  was  a 
warm  friend  of  the  family;  and,  in' fact,  the 
more  I  thought  of  it,  the  more  plainly  it 
seemed  to  me  that  it  might  reasonably  be  sus- 
pected that  I  might  have  been  actuated  by  a 
very  strong  desire  that  Farris  should  not  tes- 
tify regarding  the  Kefford  will.  If  he  should 
swear  that  he  had  witnessed  the  will,  the 
fortune  of  the  dead  Kefford  was  lost  to  his 
relatives.  There  were  chances  that  he  might 
so  swear,  and  I  was  known  to  be  a  young  man 
of  quick  temper. 

Why  should  not  the  story  of  the  cat  ap- 
pear absurd  and  ridiculous?  What  man  of 
average  sense  would  stand  at  a  third-story 
window  on  a  rainy  night,  when  footsteps  could 
scarcely  be  heard,  and  when  it  was  so  dark  that 


STRUCK  BY  A  BOOMERANG          177 

people  on  the  sidewalk  could  not  be  plainly 
discerned,  and  hurl  more  than  a  pound  of  lead 
at  something  which  might  possibly  be  a  cat? 
What  reason  had  I  to  expect  that  I  should  be 
able  to  convince  a  court  that  I  was  a  silly  fool 
and  not  an  intending  murderer? 

When  my  thoughts  had  gone  thus  far,  I 
put  the  dipsy  lead  in  a  drawer,  which  I  locked, 
and  then  I  hurried  to  the  hospital.  I  had  been 
there  before,  and  had  shown,  I  hoped,  a  credit- 
able interest  in  the  unfortunate  man,  and  now 
I  tried  hard  to  calm  myself  down  into  the  ap- 
pearance of  one  influenced  by  such  creditable 
interest  and  nothing  more.  It  might  have 
been  better  for  me  to  have  stayed  away  from 
the  hospital,  for  when  I  was  told  that,  although 
the  operation  had  been  considered  successful, 
the  patient  was  still  in  an  insensible  condition, 
with  vitality  so  low  that  at  any  moment  he 
might  cease  to  breathe,  I  feared  that  I  showed 
an  agitation  scarcely  less  than  that  which 
would  have  been  produced  by  the  news  of  the 
dangerous  condition  of  a  loved  relative.  It 
might  well  be  asked  why,  under  ordinary  cir- 
cumstances, I  should  be  so  affected  by  the 
danger  of  a  person  with  whom  I  was  not  ac- 
quainted. 


178          STRUCK  BY  A  BOOMERANG 

All  that  night  I  considered  from  every  pos- 
sible point  of  view  my  terrifying  situation. 
]STew  reasons  for  suspicions  of  me  constantly 
cropped  up.  If  I  had  accidentally  struck  a 
man  senseless,  why  should  I  have  waited  five 
days  before  I  announced  the  fact?  Why 
should  I  have  allowed  one  of  the  best  men  in 
town,  a  man  whose  son-in-law  I  hoped  to  be, 
to  rest  so  long  under  the  suspicion  of  a  foul 
crime?  Why  should  I  wait  until  I  should  see 
whether  the  man  died  or  not,  and  whether  Mr. 
Kefford  was  likely  to  get  into  serious  trouble, 
before  I  came  forward  with  this  trumped-up 
story  of  a  cat? 

And  there  was  Natalie!  If  she  had  by  this 
time  found  out  that  suspicion  was  gathering 
around  her  father,  what  would  she  say  when  I 
told  her  that  I  had  waited  five  days  before 
avowing  myself  to  be  the  culprit?  If  she  be- 
lieved I  had  entirely  forgotten  what  I  had 
done,  then  it  would  almost  be  as  bad  as  if  she 
did  not  believe.  A  lawyer  whose  business  it 
is  to  discover  criminating  facts,  but  whose 
judgment  and  memory  are  so  frail  as  to  make 
him  overlook  the  all-important  facts  in  such 
a  case,  must  be  almost  as  despicable  as  a  man 
who  commits  a  crime  and  lies  about  it! 


STRUCK  BY  A  BOOMERANG          179 

I  became  indignant  at  fate.  Why  should  I 
lose  everything  worth  having  in  this  world? 
Why  should  I  give  up  my  love,  my  prospects, 
my  life,  because  I  had  committed  a  careless 
fault?  Why  should  I  suffer  the  terrible  pun- 
ishments which  might  follow  the  avowal  of  my 
part  in  this  tragedy,  of  which  tragedy,  at  the 
time  it  was  committed,  I  was  absolutely  ig- 
norant? 

In  the  town  of  Camborough,  in  fact  in  the 
whole  world,  there  was  no  one  who  could  help 
me  answer  these  questions.  If  I  told  my  se- 
cret to  anyone,  I  would  have  no  right  to  ask 
him  to  keep  it  a  secret,  and  he  would  have  no 
right  to  do  so.  How  I  cursed  myself  for  the 
egregious  vanity  which  had  urged  me  to  push 
myself  into  this  affair!  Of  course  it  was  a 
good  motive  which  prompted  me  to  give  all 
possible  assistance  in  the  search  for  a  criminal 
and  to  clear  a  good  man  from  suspicion,  but 
that  had  not  been  all  my  motive.  I  had 
wanted  to  show  Camborough  what  I  could  do 
by  myself.  I  had  wanted  to  produce  the  crim- 
inal, and  now  that  I  had  found  him  I  was 
afraid  to  produce  him.  If  I  had  kept  in  my 
proper  place  no  one  would  have  ever  known 
that  I  had  done  the  deed,  for  I  should  not  have 


180          STRUCK  BY  A  BOOMERANG 

suspected  it  myself.  It  was  as  if  a  native  Aus- 
tralian had  proudly  hurled  a  boomerang  at  an 
enemy  and  the  murderous  missile  had  re- 
turned, striking  him  fair  in  the  forehead. 

I  had  reached  the  point,  now,  when  I  con- 
sidered only  myself.  The  thought  that  my 
avowal  would  relieve  Mr.  Kefford  of  suspicion 
grew  of  less  and  less  importance.  I  said  to 
myself  that  there  was  really  nothing  positive 
to  connect  him  with  the  crime.  He  might 
suffer,  but  not  as  I  should  suffer.  I  could  not 
make  up  my  mind  to  shatter  my  life. 

I  rose  in  the  morning  without  having  de- 
cided whether  I  would  continue  to  live  among 
the  citizens  of  Camborough  as  a  free  and  re- 
spectable man,  or  whether  I  would  deliver 
myself  into  the  hands  of  the  law  for  a  crime 
of  which  I  knew  I  was  not  truly  guilty.  I 
was  sitting  in  my  office  that  morning  about 
nine  o'clock  when  my  friend,  Craig  Wilson, 
came  in.  He  was  a  young  lawyer  about  my 
age,  but  he  had  been  longer  in  the  profession, 
and  had  had  some  experience.  Wilson  had 
scarcely  seated  himself  when  he  exclaimed: 

"  Old  boy,  you  are  not  looking  well!  Have 
you  been  reading  all  night,  studying  up  wills 
and  assassinations?  I  think  you  are  putting 


STRUCK  BY  A  BOOMERANG          181 

too  much  of  your  nerve  power  into  this  busi- 
ness. Everybody  knows  you  are  interested, 
and  that  is  all  right,  but  there  is  such  a  thing 
as  going  too  far,  even  in  a  good  cause.  You 
want  a  rest.  What  do  you  say  to  going  out 
fishing  this  afternoon? " 

"  Fishing!  "  I  exclaimed. 

"  Yes,"  said  Wilson.  "  I  had  an  idea  you 
were  going  into  that  line  again.  I  know  you 
used  to  be  a  great  fisherman,  and  Billy  Saim- 
ders,  the  son  of  our  gardener,  told  me  that  yes- 
terday you  bought  a  fishing-line  of  him  and 
paid  him  some  fabulous  price — a  dollar  or  two 
I  think  he  said — for  one  of  his  old  lines.  That 
looked  to  me  like  a  bad  attack  of  fishing  fever, 
and  my  opinion  is  that  it  is  the  sort  of  disease 
that  would  do  you  good.  Shall  we  start  out 
after  luncheon? " 

"  No,"  said  I,  "  I  cannot  possibly  do  it;  it 
will  be  utterly  out  of  the  question."  I  think 
I  said  something  about  an  engagement,  but  I 
do  not  remember.  My  mind  was  entirely  oc- 
cupied by  a  new  fear — a  fear  that  this  crime 
might  be  fixed  upon  me  without  my  confessing 
it.  The  boy  would  be  a  witness  to  prove  an 
extraordinary  desire  on  my  part  to  possess  my- 
self of  the  missile  with  which  Farris  had  been 


182         STRUCK  BY  A  BOOMERANG 

struck.  I  did  not  want  to  talk,  but  I  must  say 
something. 

"  Is  there  any  news,"  said  I,  "  about — the 
man  in  the  hospital?  " 

"  No  good  news,"  replied  Wilson.  "  In  fact 
there  doesn't  seem  to  be  anything  good  about 
this  unfortunate  affair,  and  I  must  admit  it 
has  an  effect  on  me  as  well  as  on  yourself,  al- 
though you  have  much  more"  reason  to  take 
it  roughly  than  I  have.  I  stopped  at  the  hos- 
pital late  last  night  and  learned  that  Farris  had 
had  a  very  bad  turn.  At  one  time  they 
thought  he  was  dead,  but  he  picked  up  a  little 
as  if  his  life  was  doing  its  best  to  stick  to  him. 
It  would  be  very  bad  if  he  should  die,  for,  be- 
tween us,  things  are  looking  very  shady  re- 
garding Kefford.  Of  course  the  evidence 
against  him  is  very  slight,  but  it  is  all  the  evi- 
dence there  is  against  anybody.  I  am  very 
much  afraid,  very  much  indeed,  that  if  the 
man  dies  it  will  be  absolutely  necessary  to  take 
Mr.  Kefford  into  custody." 

"  Never !  "  I  exclaimed,  springing  to  my 
feet.  "  He  is  as  innocent  as  a  babe;  and  the 
thing  was  not  done  with  an  adze." 

I  was  on  the  point  of  saying  more,  but  I 
restrained  myself.  This  was  not  the  place  to 
tell  my  story. 


STRUCK  BY  A  BOOMERANG          183 

"  Cool  yourself  down,  my  boy,"  said  Wil- 
son, also  rising;  "it  is  all  right  for  you  to 
think  that  way,  and  I  give  you  credit  for  it. 
I  know  you  have  been  making  experiments 
with  hammers  and  things,  and  I  know  how  you 
feel  toward  that  family;  but  don't  get  your- 
self excited.  That  will  do  nobody  any  good." 

When  Wilson  left  me  my  mind  was  made 
up.  Every  suspicion  must  instantly  be  cleared 
from  Natalie's  father.  I  took  the  dipsy  lead 
from  the  drawer  and  put  it  into  my  pocket. 
Then  I  arranged  some  of  the  papers  in  my 
desk,  which  I  closed  and  locked ;  I  put  in  order 
the  things  on  my  table;  I  closed  the  window 
and  went  out  of  the  office,  locking  the  door 
behind  me.  I  might  never  see  that  room 
again. 

When  I  reached  the  street  I  started  to- 
ward the  court-house,  but  I  stopped;  I  could 
not  do  that  just  yet.  I  must  see  Natalie  first. 
It  was  impossible  for  me  to  tell  my  story  until 
I  had  seen  her  once  again.  I  did  not  intend  to 
tell  her  anything;  I  had  no  right  to  shock 
her  with  the  terrible  words  which  I  must  say. 
If  she  had  been  engaged  to  me  things  would 
have  been  different ;  but  alas !  I  was  the  only 
one  engaged.  But  I  must  see  her;  there  was 


184          STRUCK  BY  A  BOOMERANG 

work  before  me  which  would  admit  of  no  de- 
lay except  to  see  her  once  again.  Everything 
must  bend  to  that. 

I  could  not  have  called  upon  Natalie  at  a 
more  auspicious  time;  her  father  was  at  his 
office,  and  her  mother  and  sisters  were  out.  If 
my  situation  had  been  different,  I  believe  I 
should  have  proposed  to  her  that  morning. 
We  had  a  shaded  piazza  to  ourselves ;  she  was 
more  charming,  apparently  more  tender  in 
manner,  than  I  had  ever  seen  her.  If  it  had 
not  been  for  this  weight  upon  my  soul,  I  know 
I  should  have  proposed  to  her;  but  between 
me  and  Natalie  now  stood,  solemn  and  inflex- 
ible, my  knowledge  that  I  was  an  object  for 
the  action  of  criminal  law.  No  matter  how 
the  crime  might  be  considered,  I  was  that  ob- 
ject. Being  such,  I  could  not  talk  to  her  of 
love. 

I  spoke  to  her,  indeed,  of  very  little.  In 
fact  I  think  she  must  have  wondered  why  I 
came  at  such  an  unusual  hour.  I  said  some 
things  of  no  importance,  and  then  I  listened  a 
little  and  talked  of  some  other  trifles.  Natalie 
seemed  to  be  waiting,  as  if  she  expected  there 
was  something  I  would  soon  say;  but  she 
waited  in  vain.  What  made  it  all  the  worse, 


STRUCK  BY  A  BOOMERANG          185 

so  very  much  worse,  was  the  feeling,  which 
I  could  not  repress,  that  if  I  said  the  thing  she 
expected  me  to  say,  she  would  be  glad  to  hear 
it.  I  rose  to  leave,  having  come  for  nothing, 
so  far  as  she  knew.  She  must  have  perceived 
that  something  serious  affected  me,  but  of 
course  she  could  not  ask  me  what  it  was,  for 
why  should  it  not  have  been  that  thing  which 
she  had  expected  to  hear,  but  which  I  appeared 
to  be  afraid  to  say? 

As  I  took  leave  of  her,  I  held  her  hand 
longer  than  usual  in  mine,  and  I  could  not 
help  pressing  it.  I  am  not  sure,  but  I  think 
there  was  a  slight  pressure  in  return.  When 
I  looked  at  her  to  say  good-by,  I  think  my  eyes 
must  have  been  wet ;  I  am  sure  hers  were.  It 
was  her  beautiful  sympathy  with  something 
unknown,  but  which  affected  me,  which 
showed  itself  unbidden  in  her  eyes. 

I  hurried  away,  and  walked  resolutely  to 
my  fate.  On  my  way  to  the  court-house  I 
became  possessed  by  a  singular  fear.  Mr.  Kef- 
ford  lived  in  the  suburbs,  at  some  distance 
from  the  centre  of  the  town.  I  was  afraid 
that  something  might  happen  to  me,  that  I 
might  be  run  over,  that  something  might  fall 
on  me,  that  in  some  way  I  might  be  prevented 


186          STRUCK  BY  A  BOOMERANG 

from  ever  telling  my  story,  and  that  the  sor- 
row, the  shame,  and  the  misery  that  were 
rightfully  my  own  would  come  upon  Natalie's 
father,  and  therefore  upon  her.  Sometimes  I 
walked  very  fast;  sometimes  I  ran. 

When  I  reached  the  sheriff's  office  I  found 
him  there,  but  he  was  not  alone,  as  I  had  hoped. 
There  were,  perhaps,  half  a  dozen  persons  in 
the  room,  but  this  did  not  deter  me;  I  could 
not  wait  until  the  sheriff  was  at  leisure;  I 
must  speak  at  once ;  he  might  be  on  the  point 
of  issuing  some  terrible  order.  In  fact,  as  I 
had  entered  the  building  I  had  almost  closed 
my  eyes  for  fear  I  should  see  Mr.  Kefford  in 
custody.  I  stepped  up  to  the  little  group  and 
boldly  broke  into  the  conversation. 

"  Mr.  Harriman,"  said  I,  "  you  must  ex- 
cuse me  for  interrupting  you,  but  I  have 
something  of  the  greatest  importance  to  com- 
municate, which  should  be  brought  to  your 
notice  at  once.  It  is  in  the  case  of  Reuben 
Farris." 

At  these  words  everybody  stopped  talking 
and  all  eyes  were  fixed  upon  me.  Among  the 
persons  present,  I  perceived  Messrs.  Shallcross 
&  Dorman,  Mr.  Kefford's  lawyers  in  the  will 
case.  I  was  glad  to  see  them  here;  I  wanted 


STRUCK  BY  A  BOOMERANG          187 

them  to  hear  what  I  had  to  say.  I  had  not 
liked  the  conduct  of  Mr.  Shallcross  and  wished 
him  to  know  that  Mr.  Kefford  had  a  better 
friend  than  he  was. 

Xow  that  everyone  was  ready  to  listen  to 
me,  I  did  not  know  exactly  how  to  begin,  but 
I  felt  I  must  tell  a  clear  story. 

"  Gentlemen,"  said  I,  "  I  have  been  for 
days  engaged  in  the  search  for  the  man  who 
committed  the  assault  upon  Reuben  Farris.  I 
had  no  commission  to  make  this  search,  no  au- 
thority in  any  way,  and  was  actuated  solely 
by  my  desire — my  determination  I  might  say 
— to  remove  suspicion  from  anyone  on  whom 
thoughtless  and  wicked  suspicions  might  rest." 

"  Turned  detective  on  your  own  account, 
eh?"  remarked  Mr.  Dorman.  "We  have 
heard  about  that.  The  virtuous  Hatch  was  the 
last  man  you  shadowed,  I  believe? " 

I  had  always  disliked  Dorman.  He  was 
cynical  and  rude,  and  my  anger  had  frequently 
risen  against  him  when  I  had  heard  him  in 
court  badgering  a  witness,  but  he  should  not 
badger  me. 

"  You  are  mistaken,  sir,"  said  I,  with  a  cer- 
tain severity;  "  Hatch  was  not  the  last  man  I 
shadowed.  The  last  man  I  shadowed  was  the 


188          STRUCK  BY  A  BOOMERANG 

man  who  did  the  deed.  I  have  found  the  cul- 
prit and  I  am  here  to  tell  the  sheriff,  and  any- 
one else  who  may  care  to  hear,  who  it  was  who 
broke  the  skull  of  Eeuben  Farris." 

To  my  utter  amazement  this  statement  was 
greeted  with  boisterous  laughter. 

"  You  found  him,  did  you  ?  "  cried  Dorman. 
"  All  alone,  by  yourself?  Didn't  you  have 
anybody  to  help  you?  " 

And  to  this  insult  someone  added  the  jeer: 
"  And  what  did  you  do  with  him  after  you 
caught  him?  Got  him  outside ?" 

My  eyes  must  have  blazed  as  I  stood  and 
confronted  that  group  of  men.  I  could  not 
have  imagined  that  when  I  came  here  to  tell 
a  story  so  heart-rending  to  myself  that  I 
should  be  greeted  with  ridicule. 

I  knew  I  was  regarded  as  a  young  man  with 
a  very  high  opinion  of  himself,  and  I  knew 
that  there  were  men  in  the  town  who  would 
be  glad  of  any  chance  to  put  me  down  and 
mortify  what  they  were  pleased  to  consider  my 
vanity;  but  that  my  present  action  should  have 
given  them  their  opportunity  seemed  to  me 
the  super-cruelty  of  fate.  More  than  any  con- 
demnation of  my  actions  which  I  had  reason 
to  expect,  I  now  feared  that  when  I  had  made 


STRUCK  BY  A  BOOMERANG          189 

my  statement  somebody  would  sneeringly  say 
something  about  a  boomerang.  For  an  instant 
I  thought  that  I  would  leave  the  room  and  let 
my  story  remain  untold.  If  I  did  not  tell  it, 
it  could  never  be  known.  But  I  peremptorily 
banished  this  idea. 

"  Gentlemen,"  I  said,  "  you  may  laugh  if 
you  please,  but  I  would  like  to  say,  without 
interruption,  what  I  came  here  to  say.  I 
know  who  it  is  who  struck  Farris  to  the 
ground.  I  did  it  myself." 

These  words  created  the  most  sudden  sensa- 
tion: every  face  became  serious,  every  eye 
was  fixed  upon  me  in  amazement,  and  not  a 
sneer,  a  comment,  or  even  a  word,  interrupted 
my  story  as  I  told  'it  rapidly  and  clearly.  In 
conclusion  I  took  the  dipsy  lead  from  my 
pocket  and  handed  it  to  the  sheriff. 

"  This,"  I  said,  "  is  the  missile  with  which 
Farris  was  struck.  The  bottom  of  it,  you  will 
see,  with  something  added  for  the  thickness  of 
the  felt  of  his  hat,  is  exactly  the  measurement 
of  the  fracture  in  his  skull.  The  only  round- 
headed  adze  in  town  would  have  broken  out  a 
large  piece. 

"  K"ow,  then,  I  have  set  the  whole  of  this 
dreadful  affair  before  you  from  beginning  to 


190          STRUCK  BY  A  BOOMERANG 

end,  and  you  can  see  plainly  that  no  one  had 
anything  to  do  with  it  but  myself.  As  to  my- 
self, I  have  nothing  at  all  to  say.  What  I  did 
was  an  accident  without  intent  of  evil,  but  it 
was  followed  by  such  awful  consequences — 
how  awful  I  do  not  know — that  I  deserve  se- 
vere penalties  and  am  ready  to  submit  to  them. 

"  But  if  what  I  say  in  regard  to  the  inno- 
cence of  my  intentions  should  be  doubted;  if 
it  should  be  believed  that  I  really  wanted  to 
kill  the  man ;  if  the  charge  should  be  brought 
against  me  that  I  waited  so  long  before  mak- 
ing my  confession  because  I  hoped  to  find 
some  scent  which  would  put  justice  off  my 
track,  and  that  I  did  not  tell  what  I  had  done 
until  danger  to  another  absolutely  forced  me 
to  do  it,  and  if  the  man  should  die  and  I  should 
be  held  liable  for  his  murder,  still  I  have  noth- 
ing to  say,  and  shall  submit  to  whatever  may 
happen.  I  did  not  come  here  on  my  own  ac- 
count ;  I  came  solely  to  right  another  man.  I 
have  cut  loose  from  everything  which  gives 
me  an  interest  in  life,  and  I  put  myself  into 
the  hands  of  the  law;  then  if  anyone  chooses 
to  laugh  at  me  for  doing  that,  he  can  do  it, 
and  I  shall  say  nothing." 

For  a  few  moments  not  a  word  was  said 


STRUOK  BY  A  BOOMERANG          191 

in  that  room.  Several  persons  were  looking 
with  great  interest  at  the  dipsy  lead  which  was 
passing  from  hand  to  hand;  then  Mr.  Shall- 
cross  stood  up  and  addressed  me. 

"  My  young  friend,"  said  he,  "  may  I  ask 
where  you  have  been  this  morning?  " 

This  question  enraged  me.  Was  I  to  meet 
with  nothing  but  ridicule  and  insult?  Did 
this  man  think  that  I  had  been  dissipating, 
and  had  concocted  this  story  under  the  influ- 
ence of  drink?  It  seemed  to  me  as  if  his  ques- 
tion implied  such  a  suspicion.  What  business 
was  it  of  his  where  I  had  been  ?  I  was  about 
to  refuse  to  answer,  but  conquered  the  im- 
pulse. 

"  I  have  been  in  my  office,"  I  said,  the 
words  almost  sticking  in  my  throat,  "  and — 
in  one  other  place." 

"  Then,"  said  Mr.  Shallcross,  "  it  appears 
that  you  have  not  heard  that  this  morning, 
about  ten  o'clock,  Reuben  Farris  recovered 
from  his  delirium,  became  conscious  and  sen- 
sible, and  told  who  assaulted  him.  That  man 
was  Doctor  Latimer;  he  has  been  arrested  and 
is  now  in  jail." 

I  stood  stunned  and  aghast.  I  saw  before 
me  Mr.  Shallcross  with  a  beaming  face  and  a 


192          STRUCK  BY  A  BOOMERANG 

hand  outstretched;  I  saw  other  hands  and 
other  faces;  they  all  seemed  coming  toward 
me.  Suddenly  some  great  tension  within  me 
seemed  to  give  way;  the  room  rocked.  I 
think  I  sat  down,  or  perhaps  I  fell. 

When  I  recovered  my  senses  I  was  sitting 
in  an  armchair  and  I  perceived  the  smell  of 
whiskey.  It  came  from  a  glass  held  toward 
me  by  Mr.  Dorman. 

"  Take  some  of  that,"  he  said;  "  it  will 
stiffen  you  up." 

It  would  have  been  impossible  for  me  to 
imagine  before  that  hour  that  men,  ordinary, 
common  men,  some  of  them  rough-mannered, 
all  of  them  men  who  took  no  interest  in  my 
affairs,  some  of  them  men  who  did  not  like  me, 
and  not  one  of  whom  I  had  ever  thought  of  as 
a  friend,  should  now  gather  around  me  and 
speak  as  those  men  spoke.  It  astonished  me 
as  much  as  anything  else  that  had  happened 
that  morning.  Mr.  Shallcross  held  me  by  the 
hand  while  he  spoke  to  me,  but  it  was  Mr.  Dor- 
man who  had  the  greatest  influence  upon  me. 
It  was  he  who  slapped  me  on  the  shoulder  and 
spoke  of  the  good  stuff  that  was  in  me.  He 
was  generally  rough  in  speech,  but  his  man- 
ner now  told  me  what  he  meant.  Other  peo- 


STRUCK  BY  A  BOOMERANG         193 

pie  came  up,  and  they  shook  hands  with  me, 
and  said  things  which  flushed  my  cheeks.  The 
news  of  my  fainting  in  the  sheriff's  office  must 
have  spread  all  about  the  court-house. 

I  made  few  answers  to  what  was  said  to  me, 
scarcely  comprehending  what  I  heard,  and 
what  I  saw  about  me.  I  was  delighted  and  ex- 
cited. Generous,  friendly  feeling,  although  I 
might  not  know  what  it  meant,  could  have  no 
other  effect  upon  me  after  what  I  had  passed 
through.  But  my  mind  was  not  upon  all  this; 
something  else  engaged  it  absolutely  and 
wholly;  I  wanted  to  get  away.  I  told  Mr. 
Shallcross  that  it  was  absolutely  necessary  for 
me  to  attend  to  something. 

As  I  left  the  room  other  people  came  to  me 
and  shook  my  hand.  One  was  a  hack-driver 
who  had  a  stand  near  the  court-house;  an- 
other was  a  man  in  town  taking  orders  for 
trees  and  shrubs,  whom  I  scarcely  knew.  It 
was  all  very  strange  to  me;  it  seemed  as  if  I 
had  just  been  elected  to  an  office. 

At  the  door  of  the  court-house  a  man  came 
up  to  me  and  said  that  Mr.  Kefford  wanted  to 
see  me  at  his  office.  I  stopped,  I  looked  at  my 
watch  without  noticing  what  time  it  was,  and 
then,  in  a  hesitating  but  hurried  manner,  I  said 


194         STRUCK  BY  A  BOOMERANG 

that  I  could  not  go  to  Mr.  Kefford's  just  now 
but  would  see  him  very  soon.  He  really  must 
excuse  me  for  a  little  while,  and  with  that  I 
hastened  down  the  street.  I  could  not  go  to 
Mr.  .Kefford's  office,  but,  as  fast  as  my  legs 
would  carry  me,  I  went  to  his  house. 

The  one  idea  which  now  possessed  me  was 
to  see  Natalie.  I  had  left  her  as  if  I  had  been 
leaving  the  world  behind  me,  and  now  I  was 
going  to  her  as  i  fl  had  suddenly  come  to  life. 
Just -outside  of  the  Kefford's  front  gate  I  met 
her.  She  was  on  her  way  to  the  town.  It  was 
a  wonderful  piece  of  good  fortune.  Had  I 
delayed  any  longer  at  the  court-house,  she 
would  have  been  lost  to  me  in  some  side  street. 

"  Come  back  with  me,"  I  exclaimed; 
"  please  come  back  with  me.  I  have  some- 
thing to  say  to  you." 

She  was  very  much  surprised — it  was  easy 
to  see  that — but  she  turned  back  without  ask- 
ing questions,  and  we  went  into  the  library. 
There  was  no  one  there,  and  I  closed  the  door. 

Half  out  of  breath,  for  I  had  been  running 
part  of  the  way,  I  told  her  all  the  things  that 
had  happened.  I  did  not  try  to  put  them  in 
order.  I  let  the  things  I  had  to  say  come  in 
their  own  order,  and  the  strongest  pushed  them- 


STRUOK  BT  A  BOOMERANG          195 

selves  to  the  front.  Everything  I  had  done, 
everything  I  had  thought,  everything  I  had 
suspected,  I  told  her  hurriedly  and  hotly.  I 
had  had  a  feeling  that  I  would  keep  her  father 
out  of  the  matter,  but  I  could  not  help  speak- 
ing of  him.  Allusion  after  allusion  forced 
itself  from  me  in  company  with  something 
else,  and  so  I  might  as  well  have  told  her  the 
whole  talk  of  the  town.  But  this  did  not  seem 
to  affect  her  more  than  anything  else.  She 
must  have  heard  something  of  the  talk  of  the 
town,  or  suspected  it. 

There  were  tears  in  her  eyes,  but  they  were  a 
different  kind  of  tears  from  those  I  had  seen 
before.  She  said  scarcely  anything;  in  fact, 
I  gave  her  no  chance  to  speak.  I  feared 
somebody  might  interrupt  us,  and  now  that  I 
had  her  here  I  must  tell  her  everything.  She 
was  deeply  interested  in  all  I  said.  Sometimes 
she  flushed  a  little,  and  sometimes  she  turned 
a  little  pale,  and  once  or  twice  she  looked  at 
me  inquiringly;  but  still  I  went  on  galloping 
and  plunging  ahead  with  my  story.  Not  a 
thought  of  the  night  or  a  deed  of  the  day  did 
I  leave  out,  even  when  I  had  to  go  back  for 
them  and  bring  them  up  from  the  very  begin- 
ning. 


196          STRUCK  BY  A  BOOMERANG 

When  I  first  perceived  how  she  sympathized 
with  me,  and  how  deep  was  her  interest,  I  had 
taken  her  by  the  hand,  and  this  she  did  not  ap- 
pear to  notice;  as  I  warmed  up  with  the  de- 
scription of  my  feelings  when  the  conviction 
forced  itself  upon  me  that  I  was  the  man  who 
had  done  the  deed,  I  took  her  other  hand,  and 
this  I  continued  to  hold  as  I  went  on. 

When  I  reached  my  statement  in  the 
sheriff's  room,  she  leaned  forward  a  little  and 
said, 

"  And  it  was  for  my  father!  " 

Then  it  was  that  I  released  one  of  her  hands 
and  put  my  arm  around  her.  Then  I  kissed 
her  once,  twice,  I  do  not  know  how  many 
times. 

"  Yes,  it  was  for  your  father,"  I  said.  I  did 
not  attempt  to  depreciate  anything  I  had  done ; 
I  accepted  her  gratitude  just  as  she  evinced 
it,  which  she  did,  not  with  words,  but  with  her 
eyes  and  with  the  parting  of  her  lips.  There 
is  nothing  in  this  world  which  can  give  a  man 
such  rapture  as  to  press  to  his  heart  and  to  his 
lips  a  beautiful  woman  whose  father  he  has 
saved — or  intended  to  save,  which  is  the  same 
thing.  She  asked  me  to  go  on  and  tell  her 
the  rest.  I  told  it  as  quickly  and  as  briefly 


STRUCK  BY  A  BOOMERANG          197 

as  I  could.  It  all  seemed  of  such  little  im- 
portance that  I  could  not  spare  the  time  for  it. 
Suddenly  a  thought  flashed  upon  me.  Here 
I  was  holding  a  beautiful  woman  to  my  heart; 
I  was  kissing  her  eyes,  her  lips,  her  cheeks ;  I 
was  holding  one  of  her  hands  which  tightly 
clasped  my  own,  and  I  had  never  proposed  to 
her!  I  had  intended  to  do  that  before  I  be- 
gan my  story,  so  that  she  might  better  under- 
stand it. 

I  drew  back  a  little  and  told  her  what  it 
was  that  I  had  forgotten.  She  looked  into  my 
eyes  with  a  smile. 

"  I  think  we  can  easily  dispense  with  that," 
she  said.  At  that  moment  I  felt  as  if  I  could 
dispense  with  the  whole  of  this  rolling  globe 
except  that  which  I  held  tightly  clasped  in 
my  arms. 

It  was  not  long  after  this  that  her  mother 
came  in,  not  knowing  that  there  was  anyone 
in  the  room.  She  was  very  much  surprised  to 
see  us,  and  of  course,  under  the  circumstances, 
everything  had  to  be  told  to  her.  I  do  not 
mean  told  as  I  had  told  it,  for  it  was  Natalie 
who  did  most  of  the  telling;  and  she  did  it  so 
clearly  and  put  some  things  in  such  strong  re- 
lief that  all  I  could  do  when  she  finished  was 


198          STRUCK  BT  A  BOOMERANG 

to  ask  Mrs.  Kefford  if  she  wondered  that  I  had 
come  there  and  that  I  had  told  her  daughter 
everything  that  was  in  my  soul. 

Mrs.  Kefford  did  not  wonder.  She  cried 
quietly  as  if  she  had  heard  the  news  of  the 
death  of  somebody,  but  I  do  not  think  she 
grieved;  she  was  a  very  sensitive  woman. 

It  was  not  long  after  this  that  Mr.  Kefford 
came  home  to  his  two-o'clock  dinner. 

"  Upon  my  word!  "  he  exclaimed,  "  is  this 
where  you  are  ?  I  have  been  waiting  and  wait- 
ing for  you  in  my  office.  I  did  not  want  to 
talk  to  you  in  the  court-house."  And  with 
this  he  began  to  say  things  which  in  my  ordi- 
nary state  of  mind  would  have  confused  and 
embarrassed  me  very  much;  but  my  soul  was 
so  filled  with  the  daughter  that  nothing  the 
father  could  say,  be  it  good  or  bad,  could  make 
very  much  impression  upon  me.  I  hope  I 
was  grateful  for  his  gratitude,  but  I  am  not 
sure  that  I  really  showed  that  I  was.  I  am 
certain,  however,  that  I  showed  that  I  was  very 
happy. 

How  Mr.  Kefford  became  aware  of  our  en- 
gagement I  do  not  know.  His  wife  or  Natalie 
may  have  taken  him  aside  and  informed  him  of 
it.  At  any  rate,  he  seemed  to  consider  it  a 


STRUCK  BY  A  BOOMERANG         199 

matter  of  course.  It  was  certainly  wise  in 
him  to  do  this,  and  I  do  not  think  it  would 
have  been  of  any  use  for  him  to  consider  it  in 
any  other  way. 

After  dinner,  Mr.  Kefford  asked  me  to  go 
back  with  him  to  the  court-house;  he  was 
anxious  to  hear  if  there  were  any  further  de- 
velopments in  the  Latimer  affair.  I  did  not 
care  to  go  with  him,  but  of  course  I  was 
obliged  to  consent.  His  talk  on  the  way  to 
the  court-house  was  mostly  about  his  daughter, 
and  the  manner  in  which  he  spoke  of  her  made 
me  love  him  very  much. 

When  we  reached  the  court-house  we  found 
that  there  had  been  developments  of  great  im- 
portance. Farris  had  been  well  enough  to 
make  a  legal  deposition,  in  which,  in  addition 
to  what  he  had  said  before,  he  declared,  and 
swore  to  it  before  a  notary,  that  he  had  never 
witnessed  the  signature  of  Mr.  Nicholas  Kef- 
ford  to  a  will,  that  he  had  never  heard  of  such 
will  during  his  residence  with  the  old  man, 
and  that  his  signature  to  any  such  document 
must  be  a  forgery. 

When  this  development  was  read  to  Doctor 
Latimer  in  the  jail,  he  gave  way  entirely.  He 
saw  that  it  was  of  no  use  for  him  to  try  to  de- 


200          STRUCK  BY  A  BOOMERANG 

fend  himself,  and  that  it  would  be  far  wiser 
for  him  to  submit  at  once,  hoping  thereby  to 
lighten  his  penalties.  He  was  tired  of  strug- 
gling, he  said;  his  Institution  was  deeply  in 
debt,  and  he  had  failed  in  every  effort,  good 
or  bad,  which  he  had  made  to  save  it. 

He  had  been  very  intimate  with  old  Kefford 
during  the  last  part  of  the  latter's  life.  The 
will  which  had  been  found  in  the  desk  was  an 
exact  copy  (excepting  certain  names)  of  a  will 
that  Latimer  had  found  in  that  desk.  He 
had  written  the  copy  in  a  back-hand  which 
he  was  sure  would  never  be  taken  for  his  own, 
and,  as  I  had  supposed,  was  afraid  to  make  any 
changes  in  it  for  fear  of  fatal  errors.  He  had 
traced  the  signature  of  Nicholas  Keiford,  and 
for  witnesses  had  chosen  two  persons,  one  of 
whom  was  dead,  and  the  other  far  away,  no- 
body knew  where.  He  had  copied  the  signa- 
tures of  both  these  from  receipts  for  wages, 
found  in  Mr.  Kefford's  desk.  Although  the 
false  will  was  dated  a  year  back,  it  had  been 
made  during  the  old  man's  short  sickness,  and 
had  not  been  finished  very  long  when  he  died. 

Naturally  Doctor  Latimer  had  been  very 
anxious  to  see  Reuben  Farris  before  anyone 
else  in  Camborough  should  meet  him.  He 


STRUCK  BY  A  BOOMERANG          201 

had  been  perfectly  willing  for  him  to  come 
on,  because  what  he  had  to  say  to  the  man 
could  not  be  written  and  he  could  not  leave 
the  Institution. 

Soon  after  supper  on  the  day  of  the  ex- 
pected arrival  of  Earns,  Doctor  Latimer 
remarked  to  the  two  assistants  who  still  re- 
mained with  him  that  he  was  going  into  his 
office  to  attend  to  some  important  accounts, 
and  he  did  not  want  to  be  disturbed.  He  had 
frequently  told  them  this  before,  when  he 
was  engaged  in  his  labors  upon  the  will. 

Leaving  his  office  lamp  burning,  he  went 
into  his  bedroom,  which  was  on  the  lower  floor, 
and  adjoined  the  office,  and  then  got  out  of 
a  window,  and,  in  the  darkness  of  the  stormy 
night,  walked  to  Camborough  and  proceeded 
direct  to  the  railroad  station.  There,  outside 
in  the  rain,  he  waited  until  Farris  arrived. 

The  doctor  stated  nis  business  at  once.  Ac- 
companying Farris  as  he  walked  from  the  sta- 
tion platform,  he  began  by  offering  him  a 
hundred  dollars  if  he  would  swear  that  he  had 
witnessed  the  will  of  old  Kefford.  Farris  did 
not  understand  this  proposition,  but  when  it 
was  explained  to  him  he  flatly  declined  it. 
Then  the  doctor  increased  his  offer  by  de- 


202          STRUCK  BY  A  BOOMERANG 

grees  until  at  last  he  made  it  five  hundred 
dollars. 

But  Farris  would  not  agree;  he  would  not 
swear  falsely  for  any  money.  Then  the  doctor 
made  him  an  offer  to  go  away  and  stay  away; 
that  need  not  trouble  his  conscience,  he  would 
do  nothing  wrong  himself  and  would  not  med- 
dle in  the  affairs  of  other  people.  This  made 
Farris  angry  and  he  spoke  very  sharply  to 
the  doctor,  who  also  became  angry. 

Farris  now  walked  very  fast,  wishing  to 
hear  no  more,  and  the  doctor  had  some  dif- 
ficulty in  keeping  up  with  him.  Hurrying 
behind  him  and  becoming  more  and  more  en- 
raged as  he  thought  of  what  awaited  him  when 
this  man  should  swear  to  the  truth,  he  was 
filled  with  a  furious  desire  to  punish  the  ob- 
stinate fellow;  if  he  could  have  knocked  him 
down  with  his  fist  he  would  have  done  it. 

Suddenly,  in  the  darkness,  the  doctor's  feet 
struck  against  something  which  was  heavy 
and  which  moved.  Instinctively  he  stooped; 
he  wanted  a  missile.  He  picked  up  the  ob- 
ject, which  seemed  to  be  a  piece  of  lead,  and, 
holding  it  in  the  palm  of  his  hand  with  the 
largest  end  downward,  he  ran  up  behind  Far- 
ris and  struck  him  on  the  top  of  the  head. 


STRUCK  BY  A  BOOMERANG         203 

Being  a  tall  man,  he  dealt  the  blow  very  fairly. 
Farris  dropped,  and  the  doctor  threw  the 
piece  of  lead  into  the  road.  Then  he  left  the 
spot,  and  hastened  homeward  as  fast  as  he 
could.  It  was  not  half-past  ten  o'clock  when 
he  got  into  his  bedroom  window,  and,  putting 
on  his  slippers  and  dressing-gown,  he  went  out 
of  his  office  door,  and  entered  the  room  where 
his  two  men  were  busy  with  their  usual  game 
of  cards.  Remarking  that  his  eyes  were  tired 
and  that  he  should  go  to  bed,  although  it  was 
rather  early  for  him,  he  left  them,  and  when 
the  messengers  from  Camborough  came  to  in- 
quire about  him,  his  assistants  were  positively 
certain  that  he  had  been  at  home  all  the  even- 
ing and  had  gone  to  bed  early. 

Doctor  Latimer  had  been  greatly  troubled 
about  what  he  had  done;  he  had  feared  that 
Farris  would  die  and  he  would  be  a  murderer, 
and  when  the  patient  recovered  there  was  per- 
haps no  one  in  Camborough  who  was  so  truly 
glad  as  Doctor  Latimer.  He  had  a  con- 
science of  a  peculiar  sort,  and,  now  that  it  had 
ceased  to  prod  him  on  the  subject  of  taking 
the  man's  life,  the  doctor  gave  it  a  holiday, 
and  in  his  relief  he  cared  little  what  might  hap- 
pen next. 


204          STRUCK  BY  A  BOOMERANG 

The  next  morning  Craig  Wilson  found  me 
in  my  office;  I  was  there  because  it  was  too 
early  to  go  anywhere  else. 

"  Now,  then,"  said  he,  "  since  you  have 
proved  that  you  are  such  a  shockingly  bad 
shot  that  you  can't  even  hit  a  cat  under  your 
window,  I  think  you  would  better  give  up 
that  sort  of  thing  and  take  to  fishing  again. 
It  suits  you  better.  Suppose  we  go  this  after- 
noon; we  won't  take  any  of  those  murderous 
dipsy  leads  you  seem  to  fancy,  but  we'll  have 
decent  tackle." 

I  instantly  declared  I  could  not  go  fish- 
ing with  him  that  day.  I  had  something  I 
must  attend  to,  and  really  I  had  not  a  bit  of 
time  for  that  sort  of  thing. 

"  Come,  come,  now,"  said  Wilson,  "  that 
won't  do.  She's  going  to  the  Culture  Club 
this  afternoon  and  my  sister  has  made  an  en- 
gagement to  go  with  her,  so  you  might  as  well 
come  along  with  me.  We  are  all  trying  to 
do  as  much  as  we  can  for  you,  considering 
how  you  must  feel  about  missing  the  cat,  and 
the  best  thing  I  can  do  for  you  is  to  take  you 
fishing." 

Reluctantly  I  consented  to  accompany  Wil- 
son. I  would  have  preferred  to  stay  at  my 


STRUCK  BY  A  BOOMERANG         205 

office  and  write  a  letter,  but  considering  that 
I  could  say  some  things  a  great  deal  better  than 
I  could  write  them,  and  not  wishing  to  make 
myself  a  subject  for  raillery — I  had  had 
enough  of  that — I  agreed  to  go  with  him. 

"  By  the  way,"  said  Wilson,  as  he  was  about 
to  leave,  "  we  have  been  discussing  the  matter 
of  your  dipsy  lead  and  the  cat.  In  the  first 
place,  you  must  have  attempted  the  poor  creat- 
ure's life  some  time  before  Farris  came  along, 
for  Latimer  says  that  when  he  threw  away  the 
weapon  you  so  kindly  provided  him  with,  he 
glanced  up  at  this  building  and  there  was  no 
light  in  any  window;  and,  in  the  second  place, 
you  could  not  have  struck  anybody  fair  and 
evenly  on  the  top  of  the  head  with  the  broad 
end  of  that  dipsy.  "We  have  tried  experi- 
ments with  it,  and  when  it  is  thrown  from 
any  height  it  always  turns  over  and  over  and 
comes  point  end  down,  so  that  if  you  had  hit 
Harris  with  the  thing,  you  would  have  killed 
him  dead,  and,  what  is  more,  if  you  had  struck 
the  cat  you  might  not  have  killed  it — for  that 
is  no  easy  thing — but  you  would  have  hurt  it 
dreadfully  and  have  made  yourself  an  object 
for  the  Society  for  the  Prevention  of  Cruelty 
to  Animals.  But,  fortunately,  you  are  a 


206          STRUCK  BY  A  BOOMERANG 

bad  shot,  and  no  wounded  cat  has  been 
found." 

This  was  Craig  Wilson's  way  of  comfort- 
ing people  who  had  been  under  a  nervous 
strain;  but  I  needed  no  comfort,  and  we  had 
a  good  time  together  that  afternoon. 

It  is  years  since  all  this  happened.  As  there 
was  no  true  will  signed  by  Nicholas  Kefford, 
the  original  of  the  forgery  having  been  de- 
stroyed by  Doctor  Latimer,  the  old  man's 
property  came  to  Mr.  Archibald  Kefford  and 
Mrs.  Crown.  I  married  Natalie,  and  it  was 
not  long  before  we  were  living  in  a  house  of 
our  own.  I  have  had  very  good  success  in 
the  law,  but  for  some  years  I  never  pressed  an 
investigation,  never  endeavored  to  find  out  the 
origin  of  some  evil  action,  without  stopping 
to  consider  whether  it  might  not  be  possible 
that  under  some  peculiar  circumstances,  and 
in  some  way  I  did  not  understand  at  the 
time,  I  might  not  be  the  man  I  was  looking 
for,  and  that  the  legal  blow  I  was  about  to 
deliver  might  not  be  turned,  boomerang-like, 
upon  my  astonished  self. 


THE  SKIPPER  AND  EL  CAPITAN 


THE  SKIPPER  AND  EL  CAPITAN 

EARLY  one  summer  morning  there  sailed 
into  the  harbor  of  Yakonsk,  a  seaport  on 
the  far  northwestern  edge  of  the  Pacific  Ocean, 
the  three-masted  schooner  Molly  Crenshaw,  of 
Gloucester,  Mass. 

The  skipper  of  this  vessel,  Ezra  Budrack 
by  name,  of  domestic  proclivities,  had  with 
him  his  family,  consisting  of  his  wife  and 
daughter.  The  Molly  Crenshaw  was  the 
Budrack  home.  In  this  good  craft,  which 
Ezra  owned,  they  had  sailed  to  many  ports, 
sometimes  on  one  errand  and  sometimes  on 
another.  They  were  now  entering  the  har- 
bor of  Yakonsk,  hoping  to  do  a  little  trading. 
They  had  visited  the  town  before,  and  the 
Commandant  of  the  Russian  garrison  sta- 
tioned there  was  glad  to  see  them. 

That  night,  before  the  moon  had  set,  there 
steamed  into  the  harbor  a  Spanish  merchant 
vessel,  the  Reina  de  la  Plata,  of  about  seven 
209 


210      THE  SKIPPER  AND  EL  CAPITAN 

hundred  tons.  She  dropped  anchor  near  the 
entrance  to  the  roadstead,  and  early  the  next 
morning  one  of  her  boats  started  for  the  shore. 
In  the  stern  sat  Matias  Romino,  captain  of 
the  steamer.  As  the  ship's  boat  neared  the 
Molly  Crenshaw,  a  clear,  strong  voice  rang 
out  from  the  schooner's  deck: 

"  Hello,  el  Capitan !  I  am  glad  to  see  you. 
I  made  up  my  mind  that  was  your  vessel  the 
moment  my  eyes  fell  upon  her,  before  sun- 
rise." 

The  captain  in  the  stern  of  the  little  boat 
gave  a  start.  He  was  a  handsome,  well-made 
man,  to  whom  much  of  his  youth  remained. 
His  hair  was  black  and  his  eyes  were  bright. 

"Hello!"  he  cried,  and  ordered  his  crew 
to  make  for  the  schooner. 

In  a  few  minutes  the  two  men  were  shak- 
ing hands  on  the  deck  of  the  Molly  Cren- 
shaw.  They  were  well  acquainted,  having 
frequently  met  at  ports  where  they  had  been 
trading,  and  they  liked  each  other.  El  Cap- 
itan, as  Ezra  always  called  him,  spoke  English 
with  an  accent,  now  scarcely  noticed  by  the 
Budrack  family,  and  almost  the  first  thing  he 
did  was  to  ask  after  the  skipper's  wife  and 
daughter,  and  to  hope  that  they  were  very 
well. 


THE  SKIPPER  AND  EL  CAPITAN     211 

"  They  are  all  right/'  said  Ezra,  "  and 
they'll  be  on  deck  in  no  time,  when  I  tell 
them  you're  here." 

Brasilia  Budrack  was  a  pretty  girl  and  a 
good  one.  She  had  dark  eyes,  which  she  owed 
to  her  mother,  and  an  embrowned  complex- 
ion, which  had  been  given  her  by  the  sea  air. 
She  was  very  glad  to  see  el  Capitan,  although 
she  did  not  say  as  much  about  it  as  her  par- 
ents did.  As  for  the  Spaniard,  he  was  de- 
lighted. For  more  than  two  years  he  had 
been  in  love  with  Brasilia.  He  had  been  in 
port  with  her  for  weeks  at  a  time,  and  he 
had  never  met  a  Spanish  woman  who  suited 
him  so  well.  He  longed  to  follow  the  exam- 
ple of  the  good  Ezra  Budrack,  and  sail  the 
seas  with  a  wife  on  board  his  ship.  All  these 
things  were  known  to  the  Budracks,  but  noth- 
ing definite  had  been  done  in  the  matter. 

As  the  Budracks  and  el  Capitan  were  talk- 
ing pleasantly  together,  relating  their  experi- 
ences since  they  had  last  met,  they  perceived 
a  little  gunboat  approaching  from  the  town. 

"  The  Commandant  treats  you  better  than 
he  treated  me,"  said  the  skipper  to  the  Span- 
iard; "  I  had  to  go  in  to  see  him  and  report 
my  arrival,  but  he  is  coming  to  meet  you." 


212      THE  SKIPPER  AND  EL   C 'API TAN 

"  Perhaps  he  will  do  some  fault-finding  with 
me,"  replied  el  Capitan,  with  a  smile,  "  be- 
cause I  did  not  go  direct  to  pay  my  respects 
instead  of  stopping  here." 

In  a  few  minutes  the  gunboat  lay  to  near 
by,  a  small  boat  put  out  from  her,  and  the 
Russian  Commandant  boarded  the  Molly 
Crenshaw.  He  was  a  stout  man,  with  a  coun- 
tenance which  was  mostly  hair,  but  he  had  a 
pleasant  smile.  He  shook  hands  with  el  Cap- 
itan and  the  skipper,  and  bowed  to  the  ladies. 

"  It  astonishes  me,"  said  he  to  the  two  cap- 
tains, "  to  see  you  consort  in  such  a  friendly 
way.  Do  you  not  know  that  your  nations  are 
at  war? " 

The  three  Budracks  and  el  Capitan  started 
in  simultaneous  amazement. 

"  What !  "  exclaimed  the  skipper.  "  I  don't 
understand  you !  You  said  nothing  of  this  to 
me  yesterday." 

"No,"  said  the  Russian;  "I  supposed,  of 
course,  you  knew  all  about  it,  and  when  I  was 
going  to  refer  to  the  subject  I  was  inter- 
rupted." 

"  I  never  heard  of  it !  "  cried  Ezra.  "  It 
was  not  known  at  the  port  where  I  last 
stopped." 


THE  SKIPPER  AND  EL   CAPITAN     213 

"  No!  "  el  Capitan  cried,  "  I  have  had  no 
news  like  this !  "War !  I  cannot  believe  it." 

Then  the  Commandant  drew  from  his 
pocket  a  despatch  he  had  received  from  his 
government,  and  read  it.  It  was  a  fair  ac- 
count of  the  war  between  the  United  States 
and  Spain. 

The  two  women  began  to  cry.  The  skip- 
per walked  to  and  fro  across  the  deck  in  great 
agitation. 

"  It  is  amazing!  "  he  exclaimed.  "  They 
must  have  been  fighting  for  a  long  time.  And 
I  knew  nothing  about  it!  " 

El  Capitan  stood  up,  tall,  erect,  and  almost 
pale.  His  eyes  were  fixed  upon  Brasilia. 

"  My  country  at  war  with  the  Americans !  " 
he  groaned. 

"  Yes,"  said  the  Commandant ;  "  and  she 
has  been  getting  the  worst  of  it,  too." 

This  further  information  did  not  affect  el 
Capitan.  The  fact  that  his  people  were  fight- 
ing Drusilla's  people  was  all  the  bad  news  his 
soul  could  recognize  at  that  moment. 

"  You  are  enemies,"  said  the  Russian,  "  and 
your  ships  and  their  officers  and  crews  should 
be  kept  apart.  It  is  my  duty  to  keep  you 
apart!" 


214      THE  SKIPPER  AND  EL  CAPITAN 

"  We  are  not  enemies!  "  cried  el  Capitan. 
"  No  war  can  make  us  enemies." 

Mrs.  Budrack  looked  at  him  with  tearful 
gratitude.  By  nature  she  was  afraid  of  all 
Spaniards,  but  she  had  learned  to  make  an  ex- 
ception of  el  Capitan,  and  if  he  continued 
their  friend  what  could  there  be  to  fear?  Dru- 
silla's  eyes  were  downcast ;  she  trembled  with 
emotion,  and  if  they  had  been  alone  she  would 
have  thanked  her  lover  with  a  shake  of  the 
hand. 

The  skipper  was  not  a  sentimental  person, 
and  he  was  not  in  love  with  any  Spanish 
woman ;  •  he  had  patriotic  principles,  and  they 
came  to  the  front. 

"  You  are  right,  Mr.  Commandant,"  said 
he ;  "  if  the  United  States  is  at  war  with  Spain, 
and  if  the  two  countries  are  now  fighting  as 
hard  as  they  can,  of  course  el  Capitan  is  my 
enemy  and  I  am  his.  There  is  no  other  way 
of  looking  at  it.  It  is  hard  lines  for  me,  for 
I've  liked  him  ever  since  I  first  knew  him,  and 
my  wife  and  daughter  will  be  very  much  cut 
up,  I  know,  but  there's  no  getting  around  it. 
He  is  my  enemy  and  I  am  his." 

"  But  what  of  all  that? "  cried  el  Capitan. 
"  A  country  does  not  mean  every  single  per- 


THE  SKIPPER  AND  EL  CAPITAN     215 

son  in  it.  In  every  nation  there  is  always  some 
one  who  is  different  from  the  rest.  I  cannot 
be  an  enemy  to  my  friends." 

"  But  you  will  have  to  be,  el  Capitan,"  said 
the  skipper.  "  You  are  a  good  man,  and  I 
have  a  high  respect  for  you,  but  your  coun- 
try has  made  you  my  enemy.  You  have  noth- 
ing to  say  about  it,  and  you  can't  help  it." 

"  That  is  right,"  said  the  Commandant. 
"  The  rulers  of  your  nations  have  made  you 
enemies.  You  must  submit.  If  one  of  you 
commanded  a  man-of-war  it  would  be  his  duty 
to  capture  the  other  one  as  a  prize.  If  both 
ships  were  war  vessels,  it  would  be  your  duty 
to  fight.  Your  governments  have  arranged  all 
that." 

At  the  mention  of  fighting  Mrs.  Budrack 
went  below.  She  could  hear  no  more.  Dru- 
silla,  however,  remained,  silent,  pale,  with 
eager  eyes. 

The  skipper  knitted  his  brows  and  reflected. 
"  Look  here,  Mr.  Commandant,"  he  said; 
"  my  vessel  is  liable  to  be  taken  as  a  prize  by 
the  Spanish,  is  she  ?  " 

"  By  a  Spanish  war  vessel,  yes,"  was  the 
answer. 

"  But  if  there  are  no  war  vessels  in  the 


216      THE  SKIPPER  AND  EL   CAPITAN 

case,"  said  Ezra,  "  it  seems  to  me  that  enemies 
should  fight.  If  my  vessel  is  liable  to  be  taken 
as  a  prize,  so  is  that  Spanish  vessel.  How  is 
that,  according  to  your  constitution  ?  " 

"  My  country  has  no  constitution,"  said  the 
Commandant ;  "  her  rulers  decide  according 
to  circumstances." 

"  Do  you  sometimes  have  to  decide  accord- 
ing to  circumstances?  "  asked  the  skipper. 

"  When  I  cannot  communicate  with  my 
government  I  sometimes  have  to  do  so,"  an- 
swered the  Russian. 

"  "Well,  then,"  said  Ezra,  "  how  do  you  de- 
cide now?  " 

"  I  must  think,"  said  the  Commandant. 

During  this  conversation  el  Capitan  was 
silent,  but  looked  very  black.  To  be  at  war 
with  Drusilla's  country — it  was  a  horrible  fate. 

"  I  have  thought  this,"  said  the  Comman- 
dant, presently :  "  I  will  have  nothing  to  do 
with  either  of  you,  except  to  preserve  strict 
neutrality.  This  is  the  order  of  my  govern- 
ment. You  are  enemies,  and  at  any  moment 
you  may  begin  to  fight.  I  have  nothing  to  do 
with  that,  but  in  this  harbor  you  cannot  fight. 
The  laws  of  neutrality  will  not  permit  it." 

The  countenance  of  el  Capitan  began  to 


THE  SKIPPER  AND  EL  OAPITAN     217 

brighten.  Suddenly  it  beamed.  "  I  will 
fight,"  he  cried.  "  I  am  ready  to  do  battle 
for  the  honor  of  my  country.  Since  there  is 
no  war  vessel  here  to  uphold  her  honor,  the 
Reina  de  la  Plata  will  do  it.  I  will  sail  out- 
side the  harbor  together  with  the  Molly  Cren- 
shaw,  and  I  will  fight  her." 

El  Capitan  was  a  good  man,  but  a  wily 
Spaniard;  his  vessel  was  larger  than  the 
schooner,  he  carried  more  men.  If  he  could 
capture  the  Molly  Crenshaw  he  would  capture 
Drusilla.  Then  let  the  war  go  on ;  what  mat- 
tered it  to  him!  He  would  have  her,  and 
everything  else  could  be  settled  afterward. 

"  No,"  said  the  Commandant,  "  you  can- 
not sail  out  of  this  harbor  with  this  vessel. 
You  are  enemies,  and  the  laws  of  neutrality 
demand  that  one  of  you  must  remain  here  for 
twenty-four  hours  after  the  other  has  de- 
parted." 

Drusilla  wept,  and  went  below  to  join  her 
mother.  If  in  this  time  of  war  the  Molly 
Crenshaw  should  sail  away  in  one  direction 
and  the  Reina  de  la  Plata  in  another,  when 
would  she  ever  see  el  Capitan  again? 

The  Spaniard  approached  the  skipper  and 
extended  his  hand.  "  I  will  go  outside,"  he 


218     THE  SKIPPER  AND  EL  GAPITAN 

said,  "  and  wait  there  twenty-four  hours  until 
you  come.  Then  I  will  fight  you." 

"  Very  good,"  said  Ezra,  giving  his  hand  a 
hearty  shake;  "  you  may  count  on  me." 

"  I  do  not  think  you  have  a  right  to  fight," 
said  the  Commandant  to  Ezra,  when  el  Capi- 
tan  had  departed  for  his  steamer.  "  You  are 
both  merchant-men." 

"  But  we  are  each  liable  to  be  taken  as  a 
prize,"  said  Ezra,  "  and  I  think  that  makes 
it  square." 

The  Commandant  shook  his  head.  "  Even 
if  my  country  had  a  constitution,"  he  said,  "  I 
do  not  know  that  it  could  settle  that  point. 
But  I  shall  take  no  responsibility;  all  I  can  do 
is  to  preserve  strict  neutrality." 

The  next  morning  the  good  schooner  Molly 
Crenshaw,  with  a  fine  breeze,  sailed  out  of  the 
harbor  of  Yakonsk,  and  she  had  scarcely 
reached  the  open  sea  before  she  saw,  a  few 
miles  away,  the  smoking  funnel  of  the  Reina 
de  la  Plata.  The  Spanish  vessel  immediately 
changed  her  course  and  made  directly  for  the 
Molly  Crenshaw. 

El  Capitan  was  in  high  spirits.  He  had  had 
twenty-four  hours  in  which  to  reflect  upon  the 
state  of  affairs,  and  to  construct  a  plan  of  bat- 


THE  SKIPPER  AND  EL  OAPITAN     219 

tie,  and  he  was  entirely  satisfied  with  the 
scheme  he  had  worked  out.  As  has  been  said 
before,  he  was  so  much  stronger  than  his  new 
enemy  that  he  thought  there  would  be  very 
little  trouble  in  capturing  her,  even  if  her 
skipper  and  her  crew  should  make  some  show 
of  resistance.  His  steamer  rode  much  higher 
out  of  the  water  than  did  the  schooner,  and  if 
he  should  lie  alongside  of  the  latter,  which  he 
could  easily  do,  she,  depending  entirely  upon 
the  wind,  while  he  possessed  all  the  advantages 
afforded  by  steam,  his  men  could  easily  slip 
down  on  her  deck  and  quell  any  disorder  which 
might  be  occasioned  by  his  action. 

Then,  as  soon  as  the  schooner's  company 
had  surrendered  and  good-fellowship  and 
order  had  been  restored,  he  would  take  Skip- 
per Budrack  and  his  family  on  board  his  own 
steamer,  where  they  would  have  the  very  best 
accommodations.  He  would  put  a  prize  crew 
on  the  Molly  Crenshaw,  and  the  two  ships 
would  sail  away  to  a  Spanish  port.  On  this 
voyage,  which  naturally  would  be  somewhat 
long,  he  would  settle  matters  with  Drusilla 
and  her  parents.  He  had  no  doubt  that  he 
could  do  so.  He  believed  he  knew  a  good  deal 
concerning  the  young  lady's  state  of  mind,  and 


220      THE  SKIPPER  AND  EL  CAPITAN 

her  parents  would  not  be  in  the  position  to 
resist  his  entreaties  which  they  would  have  oc- 
cupied had  they  been  sailing  in  their  own  ves- 
sel, and  able,  whenever  they  chose,  to  put 
thousands  of  miles  between  him  and  the  ob- 
ject of  his  hopes — of  his  life. 

When  he  finally  arrived  at  a  Spanish  port, 
and  if  the  prize  he  had  captured  should  be 
formally  adjudicated  to  him,  he  would  then 
make  the  Molly  Crenshaw  a  wedding  present 
to  Drusilla.  He  would  take  command  of  the 
schooner,  and  his  parents-in-law  should  sail 
with  Drusilla  and  himself,  if  they  so  chose, 
or,  if  they  liked  it  better,  they  should  spend 
their  declining  years  in  any  pleasant  spot  they 
might  select,  receiving  regularly  a  portion  of 
the  profits  of  the  voyages  which  he  and  Dru- 
silla would  make  to  various  ports  of  the  world. 
His  face  beaming  with  happy  anticipations, 
he  leaned  over  the  rail  as  the  steamer  rapidly 
approached  the  schooner,  which  was  now  lying 
to. 

Before  the  two  vessels  were  within  hailing 
distance,  Skipper  Ezra  Budrack  displayed  a 
large  flag  of  truce. 

"  You  needn't  do  that!  "  roared  el  Capitan, 
through  his  speaking-trumpet.  "  I  am  not 


THE  SKIPPER  AND  EL   GAPITAN     221 

going  to  fight  you  without  notice.  I  make  for 
you  only  that  I  may  plan  the  battle  with  you." 

Now  the  two  vessels  lay,  gently  rolling,  side 
by  side,  as  near  as  safety  would  permit. 

"  Before  we  begin,"  shouted  Ezra  to  el 
Capitan,  "  I  want  you  to  look  at  this  pistol," 
and  with  this  he  held  up  a  large  revolver; 
"  this  is  the  only  shooting-iron  on  board  this 
vessel,  and,  as  I  don't  want  any  accidents  or 
unnecessary  bloodshed,  I  am  going  to  throw  it 
into  the  sea.  Look  now!  Down  she  goes!  " 
And  with  that  the  skipper  hurled  the  pistol 
into  the  water  below  him  with  such  force  that 
it  must  have  made  a  hole  in  the  bottom  of  the 
sea.  "  Now,  then,  el  Capitan,"  cried  he, 
u  what  are  you  going  to  do  about  fire-arms?  " 

The  Spanish  captain  disappeared,  but  in  a 
few  moments  he  returned,  bearing  a  large  car- 
bine. "  This  is  the  only  gun  we've  got,"  said 
he,  "  and  down  she  goes !  "  With  these  words 
he  pitched  it  into  the  sea. 

"  That's  all  right,"  said  the  skipper;  "  and 
now,  whenever  you're  ready  to  come  on,  we're 
ready  to  meet  you.  Of  course,  as  you're  a 
steamer,  you'll  have  to  do  the  coming  on." 

"  I'll  do  that,"  said  el  Capitan;  "  but  before 
we  begin,  I,  too,  have  something  to  say.  I 


222     THE  SKIPPER  AND  EL  CAPITAN 

shall  subdue  your  men  and  capture  your  ship 
with  as  little  violence  as  possible,  but  still  there 
will  be  a  scuffle,  and  there  may  be  blows  and  a 
good  deal  of  general  disorder.  That  is  to  be 
expected,  and  I  do  not  think  either  of  us  can 
prevent  it.  Therefore,  I  beg  of  you,  my  dear 
skipper,  that  you  will  keep  your  wife  and 
daughter  safely  shut  up  in  your  cabin.  I  shall 
tell  my  men  not  to  go  aft  if  they  can  help  it, 
and  on  no  account  to  go  below,  and  as  I  shall 
be  on  board  I  shall  see  that  my  orders  are 
obeyed.  Of  course  I  shall  allow  no  injury  to 
come  to  the  two  ladies  or  yourself,  but  I  do 
not  wish  that  they  shall  even  be  frightened. 
I  hope,  if  it  can  be  so  managed,  that  the  whole 
affair  may  be  transacted  so  quietly  and  prompt- 
ly that  it  will  seem  to  them  like  an  ordinary 
nautical  manoeuvre." 

"  His  English  is  wonderfully  improved," 
thought  Skipper  Budrack;  "  when  first  I  knew 
him  he  could  not  express  himself  like  that." 
Then,  with  a  gradually  expanding  grin,  he 
called  out  to  el  Capitan :  "  I  am  much  obliged 
to  you  for  your  kind  consideration  for  my  fam- 
ily, but  you  must  not  suppose  that  I  would 
take  my  wife  and  daughter  on  board  my. ves- 
sel when  I  was  going  out  for  a  fight.  I  left 


TBE  SKIPPER  AND  EL  CAPITAN     223 

Mrs.  Budrack  and  Dmsilla  in  the  town.  They 
are  staying  with  the  Commandant's  family, 
who  gave  them  a  very  kind  invitation." 

Now  el  Capitan  stamped  his  feet  and  swore 
many  Spanish  oaths.  Every  plan  he  had  made 
had  been  swept  away  as  if  it  had  been  struck 
by  a  typhoon.  If  he  could  not  capture  Dru- 
silla,  what  would  a  victory  be  worth  to  him? 
He  was  mad  with  rage  and  disappointment. 
All  the  time  he  had  been  talking  his  eyes 
had  been  scanning  the  cabin  windows  in  the 
hope  of  seeing  a  fair  face  or  a  waving  hand- 
kerchief. It  was  a  vile  trick  the  skipper  had 
played  on  him.  He  had  had  such  kind 
thoughts;  he  had  planned  to  be  so  magnani- 
mous; he  would  have  taken  the  schooner  so 
gently  that  the  most  tender  heart  would  not 
have  been  made  to  flutter.  But  now  every- 
thing was  different.  He  would  not  say  an- 
other word  to  that  deceiving  skipper.  But 
suddenly  an  idea  came  into  his  fiery  brain. 
"  I  will  run  down  his  schooner,"  he  exclaimed. 
"  I  will  utterly  destroy  it.  I  will  sink  it  to 
the  bottom.  But  I  will  be  merciful;  I  will 
save  his  life;  I  will  save  all  their  lives  if  I 
can.  But  his  vessel  will  be  gone.  Then  I 
will  take  him  on  board  my  steamer,  and  I  will 


224:     THE  SKIPPER  AND  EL  CAPITAN 

keep  him'  here.  His  wife  and  daughter  must 
come  to  him;  they  cannot  be  left  in  Yakonsk, 
and  there  is  no  other  ship  in  which  they  can 
get  away.  On  the  voyage  I  will  plead  my 
cause;  I  will  make  everything  all  right.  I 
shall  have  time  enough  to  do  that  before  we 
reach  port.  Things  will  be  not  so  good  as  they 
would  be  otherwise;  I  shall  have  no  schooner 
to  present  to  my  wife  on  her  wedding  day, 
and  I  may  not  be  able  to  do  much  for  Skipper 
Budrack  and  his  wife,  but  I  will  do  what  I 
can;  they  will  be  my  parents-in-law." 

He  gave  orders  that  the  Reina  de  la  Plata 
should  be  again  put  about  and  headed  for  the 
schooner  under  full  steam.  He  put  men  in 
the  bow  with  life-preservers,  and  two  boats, 
with  their  crews,  were  made  ready  to  be 
dropped  from  the  davits  the  moment  the  two 
vessels  should  strike. 

On  board  the  Molly  Crenshaw  there  was 
great  stir  of  preparation.  The  skipper  knew 
that  if  there  was  to  be  a  fight  at  all  the  steamer 
must  make  the  attack,  and  there  could  be  no 
doubt  that  her  best  method  of  doing  so  would 
be  to  ram  her  antagonist.  Therefore,  he  had 
spent  the  greater  part  of  the  preceding  day 
in  preparing  for  that  contingency.  His  men 


THE  SKIPPER  AND  EL   GAPITAN     225 

were  now  placed  in  suitable  positions  on  the 
deck,  some  armed  with  marline-spikes,  some 
with  capstan-bars,  and  a  few  with  axes. 

As  the  Spanish  steamer  came  rapidly  on, 
some  of  the  men  in  her  bow  perceived  some- 
thing on  the  schooner  which  they  had  not 
noticed  before.  She  appeared  to  have  four 
masts,  although  one  of  them  was  much  shorter 
than  the  others.  They  spoke  of  the  matter  to 
each  other,  but  did  not  understand  it. 

Among  the  preparations  the  skipper  had 
made  for  the  approaching  fight  was  this  appar- 
ent fourth  mast,  which  stood  about  midships, 
and  consisted  of  a  very  large  and  strong  spare 
spar.  Its  small  end  had  been  sharpened  and 
shod  with  iron,  while  the  other  rested  in  a 
heavy  socket,  in  which  it  could  be  moved  at 
pleasure  by  means  of  blocks  and  tackle. 

On  came  the  Spanish  steamer,  heading  di- 
rectly for  the  Molly  Crcnshaw,  and  aiming  to 
strike  her  about  midships.  On  she  came  until 
the  bright  eyes  of  el  Capitan  could  be  seen 
shining  over  the  rail.  On  she  came,  with  the 
men  in  the  bow  ready  to  throw  over  their  life- 
preservers,  and  the  men  in  the  boats  ready 
to  drop  to  the  water  and  pull  for  any  un- 
fortunate American  sailors  who  might  rise  to 


226     THE  SKIPPER  AND  EL  OAPITAN 

the  surface  after  their  vessel  had  sunk.  On 
she  came  until  she  was  within  a  few  hundred 
feet  of  the  schooner.  Then,  suddenly,  down 
dropped  the  big  spar  into  an  almost  horizontal 
position ;  it  was  pulled  a  little  forward  in  obe- 
dience to  a  quick  command  from  the  skipper, 
and  pointed  directly  at  the  steamer's  starboard 
bow. 

El  Capitan  saw  his  danger  and  shouted  to 
the  steersman — but  it  was  too  late ;  the  Reina 
de  la  Plata  could  not  change  her  course,  but 
went  straight  on.  As  the  schooner  was  so 
much  lower  than  the  steamer,  the  iron-shod 
spar  struck  the  latter  about  half-way  between 
her  water-line  and  her  rail.  It  crashed 
through  her  sides  and  ran  for  nearly  half  its 
length  into  the  vessel. 

The  force  of  the  concussion  was  so  great  that 
both  vessels  went  dashing  through  the  water 
for  a  considerable  distance,  and  if  the  spar  had 
not  held  her  in  position  the  schooner  would 
have  been  capsized,  even  if  she  had  received 
no  other  damage.  As  they  moved  together 
they  naturally  swung  toward  each  other,  so 
that  when  the  motion  had  nearly  ceased  they 
were  lying  side  by  side,  the  spar  having  ac- 
commodated itself  to  this  change  in  position 


•CRASHED   THROUGH    HER    SIDES   AND   RAN   FOR   NEARLY    HALF    ITS 
LENGTH    INTO   THE    VESSEL." 


THE  SKIPPER  AND  EL  OAPITAN     227 

by  ripping  a  larger  hole  in  the  wooden  side  of 
the  steamer. 

Now  there  was  a  great  yell  on  board  the 
Reina  de  la  Plata,  and  many  heads  appeared 
above  her  rail. 

"  Stand  by  to  repel  boarders!  "  shouted  the 
skipper.  But  before  any  of  his  men  could 
gather  around  him  a  dozen  or  more  Spaniards 
were  on  his  deck;  they  jumped,  they  slid 
down  ropes,  they  dropped  like  cats.  Capstan- 
bars  and  marline-spikes  were  raised  high  in 
the  air,  but  not  one  of  them  was  brought  down 
upon  the  heads  of  the  enemy,  for  the  skipper 
and  his  men  were  astonished  to  see  that  the 
Spaniards  were  unarmed.  As  soon  as  they 
reached  the  deck  of  the  schooner  they  took  off 
their  caps  and,  bowing  very  low,  approached 
the  skipper.  More  Spaniards  dropped  down 
from  the  larger  vessel,  and  some  of  them,  who 
could  speak  English,  explained  why  they  came. 

They  were  glad  to  be  made  prisoners ;  they 
did  not  wish  to  fight  the  Americans;  all  they 
asked  was  good  and  sufficient  food  and  the 
payment  of  their  wages,  which  were  now  a 
long  time  in  arrears.  These  things  were  not 
to  be  obtained  on  the  Spanish  ship,  and  they 
were  delighted  to  have  an  opportunity  to  sur- 
render. 


228      THE  SKIPPER  AND  EL  CAPITAN 

When  his  men  had  left  him,  el  Capitan,  dis- 
heartened and  with  downcast  visage,  slowly 
let  himself  down  from  the  side  of  his  vessel. 
He  was  dressed  with  unusual  care,  for  he  had 
expected  to  act  on  this  occasion  the  part  of  a 
conquering  hero  in  the  presence  of  his  mistress, 
and  had  arrayed  himself  accordingly.  In  his 
earlier  days  he  had  been  an  accomplished 
horseman  as  well  as  a  seaman,  and  as  a  cavalier 
garb  was  more  picturesque  than  that  of  an 
officer  of  a  merchant  vessel,  he  wore  a  broad 
hat  with  a  feather,  a  bright-colored  sash,  and 
high  boots,  to  which  were  attached  a  pair  of 
jingling  spurs.  He  was,  perhaps,  the  only  man 
who  had  ever  fought  a  marine  battle  in  spurs. 

El  Capitan  stalked  toward  the  skipper.  "  I 
am  your  prisoner,"  he  said.  "  I  am  disgraced. 
I  have  lost  everything.  I  have  no  ship;  I 
have  nothing.  Now  I  cannot  ask  you  for  your 
daughter." 

"  You  are  right,  there,"  said  the  skipper, 
with  a  grin;  "  this  isn't  the  time  nor  the  place 
for  that  sort  of  thing.  But  what  am  I  to  do 
with  all  these  fellows  of  yours?  I  don't  want 
them  on  board  my  schooner." 

"  Send  them  back  to  my  ship,"  said  el  Cap- 
itan, in  a  sombre  voice.  "  Send  me  back  to 


THE  SKIPPER  AND  EL  CAPITAN     229 

join  them,  if  you  please.  Cut  that  spar  in 
two  with  axes,  push  away  from  my  poor, 
wounded  craft,  and  set  your  sails.  The  force 
of  the  concussion  has  sent  everything  on  board 
my  ship  to  starboard,  and  as  soon  as  you  loose 
yourself  from  her  she  will  list,  she  will  take 
in  water  through  that  great  hole,  she  will  go 
to  the  bottom — down  to  the  bottom  with  me 
and  my  men,  and  that  will  be  the  end  of  us. 
We  will  trouble  you  no  more." 

"  No,  sir,"  said  the  skipper;  "  that's  not  my 
way  of  doing  business.  I  have  made  a  prize 
of  your  steamer,  and  I  am  going  to  keep  her. 
The  hole  in  her  bow  can  be  repaired,  and  then 
I  shall  have  a  good  vessel.  I  am  going  to  make 
fast  to  her  bow  and  stern,  and  that  spar  will 
keep  her  on  an  even  keel  until  we  get  into 
port  and  ground  or  dock  her." 

"  Have  your  own  way,"  gloomily  replied  el 
Capitan ;  "  take  her  into  port,  exhibit  me  as  a 
captive  at  the  tail  of  your  chariot.  Nothing 
matters  to  me.  The  best  thing  I  can  do  is  to 
jump  overboard." 

"No,  sir!"  cried  the  skipper;  "you  are 
my  prisoner.  You  belong  to  me.  You  have 
no  right  to  jump  overboard.  If  you  should  do 
that  you  would  not  be  honest.  After  surren- 
der it  is  cowardly  to  resign  or  run  away." 


230      THE  SKIPPER  AND  EL  CAPITAN 

The  Spaniard  put  his  hand  upon  his  heart. 
"  I  have  nothing  left  but  my  honor,"  he  said ; 
"  you  may  trust  that." 

"  Now,  el  Capitan,"  said  the  skipper,  "  you 
can  see  for  yourself  that  although  your  ship 
is  my  prize  I  cannot  take  her  into  port.  She 
must  take  me.  My  sails  are  no  good  for  that 
purpose.  Tell  your  engineers  and  firemen  to 
go  on  board  and  get  ready  to  steam  into  the 
harbor.  You,  with  your  engine,  will  tow  me 
along,  and  I,  with  my  spar,  will  keep  you  from 
capsizing.  We  will  make  our  vessels  fast  fore 
and  aft,  and  then  we'll  get  under  headway  as 
soon  as  possible." 

Side  by  side,  like  a  pair  of  nautical  Siamese 
twins,  the  schooner  and  the  steamer  slowly  ap- 
proached the  harbor  of  Yakonsk,  but  before 
they  were  in  sight  of  the  town  they  were  met 
by  the  little  gunboat,  with  the  Commandant 
on  board.  They  lay  to  and  the  Russian 
boarded  the  schooner.  When  the  situation 
was  explained  to  him,  he  was  very  much  inter- 
ested. 

"  I  am  amazed,"  said  he  to  the  skipper.  "  I 
did  not  suppose  you  could  do  this.  And  now 
what  is  your  next  step?  " 

"  I  want  to  take  my  prize  into  your  port," 


THE  SKIPPER  AND  EL  CAPITAN     231 

said  Ezra,  "  and  have  her  repaired.  Then  I'll 
put  a  prize  crew  on  board  of  her,  and  take  her 
away  with  me." 

"  No,  sir,"  said  the  Commandant;  "  the 
laws  of  neutrality  forbid  that !  " 

"But  what  am  I  to  do?"  exclaimed  the 
skipper.  "  If  I  separate  from  her  she  will  list 
to  starboard  and  go  down,  and  if  a  gale  comes 
up  while  we  are  fastened  together  in  this  fash- 
ion we  shall  both  be  wrecked." 

"  I  am  very  sorry,"  said  the  Commandant, 
"  but  all  I  have  to  do  is  to  observe  the  laws 
of  neutrality.  It  is  a  bad  way  to  capture  a 
vessel,  but  I  cannot  help  it.  The  laws  of  neu- 
trality must  be  observed.  Only  one  of  the 
vessels  can  enter  the  harbor  of  Yakonsk." 

El  Capitan  looked  down  over  the  side  of  his 
vessel,  but  said  nothing.  His  heart  was  heavy, 
and  he  took  but  little  interest  in  what  might 
happen  next. 

The  skipper  was  angry,  and  vehement  in 
his  expressions.  He  had  always  disliked  war, 
and  had  accepted  it  only  when  it  had  been 
thrust  upon  him ;  but  at  this  moment  he  hated 
neutrality  worse  than  war,  and  was  willing  to 
accept  none  of  it. 

The  Commandant  stood  in  deep  thought, 


232      THE  SKIPPER  AND  EL  GAPITAN 

and  brushed  his  countenance  with  his  hand. 
"  There  is  one  thing  you  can  do,"  he  said, 
presently.  "  Your  two  vessels  can  proceed 
together  as  near  the  mouth  of  the  harbor  as 
the  laws  of  neutrality  will  allow.  Then  you 
can  set  the  steamer's  crew  to  work  to  shift 
everything  movable  to  the  port  side,  and  when 
you  have  cut  away  your  spar  I  think  she  will 
be  able  to  steam  up  to  the  town,  as  the  sea 
is  tolerably  smooth.  Then  I  can  set  all  the 
ship-carpenters  in  Yakonsk  to  work  on  her. 
There  are  a  good  many  of  them,  you  know, 
for  building  small  vessels  is  the  main  industry 
of  our  place.  And  you,  Mr.  Skipper,  can 
cruise  out  here  until  she  is  repaired,  after 
which  she  will  leave  and  you  can  come  in  and 
join  your  wife  and  daughter." 

"  And  how  long  will  it  take  to  make  the 
repairs?  "  impatiently  asked  the  skipper. 

"  I  will  put  the  carpenters  on  her  as  close 
together  as  they  can  work,  inside  and  out,  and, 
from  what  I  can  judge  of  the  damage,  I  think 
they  can  have  her  ready  to  sail  in  a  week." 

The  skipper  grumbled  savagely,  and  wished 
he  had  not  captured  the  Spaniard,  but  he  made 
up  his  mind  that  he  would  have  to  be  satisfied 
with  things  as  they  were,  and  he  determined, 


TEE  SKIPPER  AND  EL   CAPITAN     233 

if  he  must  cruise  for  a  week,  to  sail  for  Petri- 
metkoff,  and  try  to  do  a  little  business  there. 
This  would  occupy  just  about  a  week. 

The  two  vessels  moved  on  toward  the  har- 
bor's mouth,  the  great  spar  was  cut  in  twain, 
the  Reina  de  la  Plata  steamed  slowly  toward 
the  town,  and  the  Molly  Crenshaw  set  sail  for 
Petrimetkoff. 

It  was  nine  days  and  twelve  hours  later 
when  Ezra  Budrack's  three-masted  schooner 
arrived  at  the  port  of  Yakonsk.  The  skipper 
was  very  late;  he  had  been  detained  by  un- 
favorable winds  and  the  exigencies  of  trade; 
but,  dark  as  was  the  night,  he  entered  the  har- 
bor, dropped  anchor,  and  waited  for  daylight. 
Then  he  went  ashore,  and  knocked  at  the  door 
of  the  Commandant  before  any  of  the  family 
was  up.  It  was  not  long  before  that  high  offi- 
cial opened  the  door  himself,  still  wearing  his 
nightcap. 

"  I  may  be  a  little  early,"  said  the  skipper, 
"  but  you  must  excuse  me.  You  know  a  man 
who  has  not  seen  his  wife  and  daughter  for 
nearly  ten  days,  and  at  a  time  when  every- 
thing is  in  such  an  upset  condition,  is  naturally 
anxious.  Can  I  go  to  Mrs.  Budrack?  " 

"  Your  wife  and  daughter!  "  cried  the  Com- 


234     THE  SKIPPER  AND  EL  CAPITAN 

mandant.  "  They  are  not  here !  They  sailed 
away  in  the  Spanish  vessel  yesterday  after- 
noon. They  were  so  anxious  about  you,  when 
you  did  not  return  at  the  time  you  fixed,  that 
they  determined  to  go  to  Petrimetkoff  and  join 
you.  If  you  had  left  there  they  were  sure 
they  would  meet  you  on  the  way." 

"  Did  my  wife  and  daughter  hatch  up  that 
plan?"  shouted  the  skipper.  "I  don't  be- 
lieve a  word  of  it!  It  was  that  wretched  el 
Capitan!  It  is  a  scheme  worthy  of  a  crafty 
Spaniard !  He  wanted  to  have  them  on  board 
with  him!  That  is  all  he  cared  about!  He 
persuaded  them  to  go;  I  am  as  sure  of  it  as 
if  I  had  been  here  and  heard  every  word  that 
was  said!  But  I  can  wait  no  longer.  I  must 
put  on  every  stitch  of  sail  I  can  carry  and  go 
after  them.  When  they  find  I  am  not  at 
Petrimetkoff  I  don't  know  where  he  will  take 
them." 

"  No,  sir!"  said  the  Commandant;  "you 
cannot  leave  this  port  until  twenty-four  hours 
after  they  sailed.  The  laws  of  neutrality  de- 
mand that  you  remain  in  the  harbor  until  five 
o'clock  this  afternoon,  and  as  that's  the  case 
you  might  as  well  come  in  and  take  breakfast 
with  us." 


THE  SKIPPER  AND  EL  CAPITAN     235 

The  skipper  expostulated  violently,  but  it 
was  of  no  use,  and  lie  went  into  the  house 
and  took  breakfast. 

At  about  noon,  the  Commandant  and  the 
skipper  were  standing  on  the  pier  of  the  town, 
when  they  saw  in  the  offing  the  smoke  of  a 
steamer.  In  a  few  minutes  they  descried  the 
Reina  de  la  Plata  coming  in  under  full  steam. 
The  Commandant  gave  a  great  shout. 

"  The  unprincipled  Spaniard!  "  he  cried. 
"  He  knows  he  has  no  right  to  enter  this  har- 
bor until  he  is  sure  your  vessel  is  not  here. 
I  must  go  and  stop  him.  He  must  go  back 
and  lie  outside  until  the  laws  of  neutrality 
permit  you  to  go  out  to  him." 

What  the  skipper  then  said  concerning  the 
laws  of  neutrality  need  not  be  recorded  here, 
but  the  air  quivered  with  the  intensity  of  his 
ejaculations.  "  Make  him  go  back!  "  he  cried. 
"  Do  you  suppose  I  am  going  to  let  that  Span- 
iard steam  away  again  with  my  wife  and 
daughter?  I  shall  row  out  to  her,  and  you 
can  do  what  you  please  with  your  gunboat." 
Then  he  shouted  for  his  men,  but  only  one  of 
them  was  in  his  boat,  which  lay  at  the  pier. 
The  others  were  up  in  the  town. 

The  Commandant  ran  to  his  gunboat,  but 


236      THE  SKIPPER  AND  EL  GAP1TAN 

steam  was  not  up  in  that  little  vessel.  He  gave 
his  orders  and  hurried  back  to  the  pier  to  pre- 
vent the  skipper  from  holding  communication 
with  the  Spanish  vessel. 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  "  shouted  the  angry 
Ezra,  when  he  saw  three  soldiers  arrive  on 
the  pier.  "  That's  my  vessel — my  property. 
She's  no  Spaniard  now.  And  she  has  my  wife 
and  daughter  on  board." 

"  It  is  my  duty,"  said  the  Commandant, 
"  and  I  can't  help  it." 

"  Duty !  "  exclaimed  the  skipper.  "  If  you 
are  so  particular  about  duty,  why  did  you  al- 
low her  to  lie  here  for  a  week  to  be  repaired? 
Do  you  call  that  neutrality?  " 

"  I  don't  call  that  anything,"  said  the  Com- 
mandant. "  I  know  of  no  decree  issued  by 
my  government  which  would  prevent  my  giv- 
ing work  to  the  ship-carpenters  of  this  town. 
As  soon  as  steam  is  up  on  my  gunboat  I  shall 
go  out  and  make  that  Spaniard  turn  back. 
Confound  him!  "  he  continued,  "  he  is  coming 
too  far,  and  he  is  about  to  drop  anchor." 

"  Yes!  "  exclaimed  the  skipper,  "  and  they 
are  making  ready  to  lower  a  boat.  Perhaps 
my  wife  and  daughter  will  come  ashore." 

"  They  shall  not  do  it!  "  roared  the  Com- 


THE  SKIPPER  AND  EL  CAPITAN     237 

mandant.  "  There  shall  be  no  communica- 
tion. O  that  my  gunboat  were  under  steam! 
I  would  sink  that  little  boat.  It  is  making  di- 
rectly for  the  pier." 

"  You'd  better  not  try  that,"  cried  the  skip- 
per. "  That  would  be  a  worse  breach  of  neu- 
trality than  anything  that  has  been  mentioned 
yet.  But  mind  you,  Mr.  Commandant,  that 
steamer  does  not  leave  this  port  until  I  get  my 
wife  and  daughter.  If  I  can't  hinder  it  any 
other  way  I'll  sink  my  schooner  across  the 
rnouth  of  the  harbor." 

The  Commandant  paid  very  little  attention 
to  these  words.  The  boat  from  the  Reina  de 
la  Plata  was  approaching  rapidly.  El  Capitan 
sat  in  the  stern,  and  as  he  came  nearer  it  was 
seen  that  his  face  was  beaming. 

"  Keep  off !  "  shouted  the  Commandant. 
"  Don't  try  to  land  here,  or " 

El  Capitan  may  have  been  deaf  with  ex- 
citement, but,  whether  this  was  the  case  or 
not,  he  was  standing  on  the  pier  in  less  than 
a  minute  after  the  Commandant  had  shouted 
to  him. 

"  This  is  intolerable,"  said  the  Russian,  ad- 
vancing. "  The  laws  of  neutrality  forbid 
communication " 


238      THE  SKIPPER  AND  EL   CAPITAN 

"  Down  with  the  laws  of  neutrality  !  " 
shouted  el  Capitan.  "  I  trample  them  under 
my  feet!  I  have  nothing  to  do  with  them!  " 

The  countenance  of  the  Commandant 
bristled  with  rage.  "  Nothing  to  do  with  the 
laws  of  neutrality?  "  he  yelled.  "  I  will  show 


"  Ha  !  "  cried  el  Capitan.  "  You  cannot 
show  me  anything.  To  be  neutral  there  must 
be  enemies;  to  enforce  neutrality  there  must 
be  war.  There  is  no  war,  therefore  there  is 
no  neutrality.  Peace  has  been  proclaimed  be- 
tween the  Spaniards  and  the  Americans.  I 
have  the  news.  I  got  this  Russian  newspaper 
from  a  steamer  I  spoke,  bound  for  Petrimet- 
koff,  and  I  immediately  put  back  here  at  full 
speed,  Mr.  Budrack,  because  I  wanted  the 
Commandant  to  know  everything  in  case  you 
should  arrive  without  my  sighting  you,  which 
you  did." 

During  this  speech  the  skipper  stood 
amazed.  The  war  ended!  Peace!  What 
complications  did  this  news  bring  with  it! 
He  wanted  to  row  out  to  his  wife  and  daugh- 
ter, but  he  must  wait  and  find  out  how  mat- 
ters stood.  The  Commandant  had  been  read- 
ing an  account  of  the  peace  protocol,  and  he 


THE  SKIPPER  AND  EL   GAPITAN     239 

now  translated  it  into  English  for  the  skip- 
per. 

"  Well  ?  "  said  the  Commandant,  looking  at 
el  Capitan. 

"  It  is  well,"  said  the  Spaniard,  "  very  well. 
There  is  no  war;  I  am  no  longer  a  prisoner. 
There  is  no  war,  and  my  ship  is  no  longer  a 
prize." 

"  Stop  there !  "  shouted  the  skipper.  "  I 
don't  agree  to  that." 

"  But  you  must  agree,"  said  el  Capitan. 
"  Your  prize  has  not  been  adjudicated  to  you, 
and  I  am  sure  no  court  would  give  it  to  you 


now. 
it 


He  is  right,"  said  the  Commandant.  "  I 
am  afraid  he  is  right.  But  tell  me  this,"  said 
he,  addressing  the  skipper :  "  if  that  ship  is 
not  your  prize,  who  is  going  to  pay  the  ship- 
carpenters  for  her  repairs? " 

It  was  el  Capitan  who  made  answer.  "  I 
do  not  know,"  he  said,  shaking  his  head ;  "  but 
one  thing  is  certain:  I  ordered  no  repairs." 

"  And  I  would  not  have  had  them  made  if 
you  had  ordered  them,"  said  the  Commandant. 
"  I  do  not  believe  you  have  any  money.  I  set 
those  carpenters  to  work  because  you  ordered 
it,  Mr.  Budrack." 


240      THE  SKIPPER  AND  EL    CAPITAN 

"  But  if  it  is  not  my  prize,"  said  the  skip- 
per, "  what  had  I  to  do  with  it,  then,  and  what 
have  I  to  do  with  it  now  ?  " 

"  Gentlemen,"  said  el  Capitan,  "  do  not  let 
us  dispute  about  who  shall  pay  those  wretched 
carpenters.  Do  not  let  us  give  them  a  thought 
when  there  are  so  many  joyful  things  to  talk 
about.  It  is  right  that  you  should  know,  sir," 
he  said,  turning  to  the  skipper,  "  because  you 
are  her  father.  And  you,  sir,"  to  the  Com- 
mandant, "  because  you  are  the  chief  official 
of  the  place,  and  there  may  be  constitutional 
laws  which  would  compel  you  to  make  some 
kind  of  a  legal  entry." 

"  We  have  no  constitution,  as  I  told  you," 
said  the  Commandant ;  "  but  we  have  laws 
which  compel  the  payment  of  mechanics." 

"  What  are  you  talking  about?  "  cried  Ezra 
to  el  Capitan. 

"  It  is  this,"  answered  the  Spaniard. 
"  When  I  took  your  wife  and  daughter  on 
board  the  Reina  de  la  Plata  I  considered  their 
wishes  as  commands.  I  was  a  prisoner;  I  be- 
longed to  the  husband  of  the  one  and  the 
father  of  the  other.  The  steamer  was  his  prop- 
erty— I  remembered  my  position.  I  said  no 
word  to  them  of  what  was  in  my  heart.  But 


THE  SKIPPER  AND  EL   CAPITAN     241 

this  morning,  when  I  heard  that  I  was  free, 
that  I  stood  on  the  deck  of  a  vessel  of  which 
I  was  commander,  then  all  was  changed.  I 
had  a  right  to  say  what  I  pleased,  and  I  told 
your  daughter  that  I  loved  her.  I  will  not 
speak  of  the  details,  but  she  accepted  me,  and 
my  soul  immediately  floated  as  bravely  as 
that  proud  flag  of  Spain  you  see  upon  my 
vessel." 

"  And  her  mother?  "  inquired  the  skipper. 
"What  did  she  do?" 

"  She  shed  tears,"  replied  el  Capitan,  "  but 
I  am  sure  they  were  tears  of  joy.  She  said 
she  did  not  believe  you  would  allow  your 
daughter,  sir,  to  wed  an  enemy,  but  she  was 
sure  you  would  not  object  to  an  alliance  with 
the  subject  of  a  friendly  power." 

The  skipper  made  no  further  remark,  but 
got  into  his  boat  and  was  rowed  to  the  steamer. 

El  Capitan,  being  a  man  of  discretion,  did 
not  go  to  the  vessel  until  half  an  hour  later. 
The  skipper  met  him  at  the  rail. 

"  I  have  settled  the  whole  matter,"  said 
Ezra.  "  I  expected  you  to  marry  my  daughter 
because  my  wife  had  made  up  her  mind  that 
it  should  be  so.  If  your  ship  had  been  my 
prize  I  had  intended  to  sell  the  Molly  Cren- 


242     THE  SKIPPER  AND  EL  OAPITAN 

shaw,  and  we  would  all  have  sailed  on  the 
Reina,  because,  in  these  days,  a  steamer  is  bet- 
ter for  trading  than  any  three-masted  schooner, 
no  matter  how  good  she  may  be.  Things  are 
changed,  but  I  shall  still  carry  out  my  plan. 
I  shall  sell  my  schooner,  and  buy  the  steamer, 
if  your  owners  will  act  reasonably  about  it. 
And  then,  of  course,  I  will  pay  for  the  repairs, 
and  I  suppose  I  must  settle  the  back  wages  of 
the  sailors,  if  I  expect  to  keep  them." 

That  evening  the  three  Budracks  and  el 
Capitan  dined  with  the  Commandant  and  his 
family.  They  spent  a  pleasant  evening,  and 
when  they  had  returned  to  their  schooner  the 
skipper  and  his  wife  sat  up  for  awhile  in  their 
little  cabin,  to  talk  over  matters  and  things. 

"  This  has  all  turned  out  very  well  for  Dru- 
silla  and  el  Capitan,"  said  Mrs.  Budrack,  "  but 
if  we  sell  the  Molly  Crenshaw  we  shall  lose  a 
very  pleasant  home. 

"  Yes,"  said  Ezra.  "  I  don't  suppose  that 
Spanish  steamer  can  be  made  to  take  her 
place  as  far  as  our  comfort  goes." 

"  And  it  may  end,"  she  continued,  "  in  our 
buying  a  house  on  shore,  somewhere,  and  liv- 
ing there.  I  don't  believe  el  Capitan  will  be 
wanting  us  to  be  sailing  about  with  him  all 
the  time." 


THE  SKIPPER  AND  EL   OAPITAN     243 

"  No,"  said  Ezra,  "  and  I  don't  believe  we 
would  like  it,  either." 

"  The  Commandant  was  in  a  very  good 
humor  to-night,"  remarked  Mrs.  Budrack. 
"  He  seemed  to  think  it  a  fine  thing  for  the 
town  that  his  ship-carpenters  had  such  a  good 
job." 

"  Oh,  yes,"  said  Ezra,  "  I  don't  wonder 
he  was  pleased;  but  if  I  had  known  I  should 
have  to  pay  for  that  hole  I  made  in  that 
Spanish  vessel,  I  would  not  have  punched 
it." 

"  And  listen  to  those  sailors,"  said  Mrs. 
Budrack,  "  over  there  on  the  steamer.  They 
are  all  singing.  I  expect  it's  the  thought  that 
they  are  going  to  get  their  back-wages  that 
makes  them  so  happy." 

"  Yes,"  said  Ezra,  somewhat  dolefully, 
"  and,  from  what  el  Capitan  told  me  this  even- 
ing, some  of  their  wages  must  be  a  long  time 
in  arrears.  It  will  be  a  pretty  heavy  drain  on 
me,  but  as  that's  going  to  be  my  ship,  and  as 
el  Capitan  is  going  to  be  my  son-in-law,  I  sup- 
pose I've  got  to  pay  them,  and  make  things 
square  for  him  and  Brasilia." 

Mrs.  Budrack  reflected  for  a  moment. 
"  Now,  Ezra,"  said  she,  "  let  me  tell  you 


244      THE  SKIPPER  AND  EL   CAPITAN 

something.  The  next  time  you  get  mixed  up 
in  a  war  I'd  advise  you  to  get  on  the  side  that's 
beaten,  or  else  on  the  side  that's  bound  to  pre- 
serve the  laws  of  neutrality.  It  doesn't  pay  to 
conquer." 


COME  IN,  NEW  YEAR" 


"COME  IN,  NEW  YEAR" 

IN  a  fine  old  country  mansion,  commodious, 
somewhat  imposing  and  positively  heavy 
in  its  style  of  architecture,  resided  the  Hon. 
Horace  Brunder,  now  an  elderly  man,  and 
Mrs.  Brunder,  his  wife.  For  several  years 
these  two  had  made  up  the  family — a  very 
small  family  for  so  large  a  house.  They  had 
no  children,  and,  although  they  were  very  good 
company  for  each  other,  they  felt  as  they  daily 
grew  older  that  they  could  not  of  themselves 
make  their  home  as  cheerful  and  as  pleasant 
as  they  would  have  it.  They  felt  this  the  more 
forcibly  because  there  had  been  many  years 
when  that  house  was  very  cheerful  and  very 
pleasant.  Therefore  it  was,  about  six  months 
before  this  story  opens,  this  all  too  quiet  cou- 
ple had  taken  into  their  home  a  young  girl, 
Margey  Griffith,  the  niece  of  Mrs.  Brunder 
and  one  of  a  large  family  of  fatherless  boys 
and  girls. 

347 


248  "COME  IN,   NEW  YEAR" 

The  Hon.  Horace  had  never  been  fond  of 
children,  and  at  one  time  in  his  life  it  might 
have  been  said  that  he  absolutely  disliked  boys 
and  girls,  but  now,  since  he  had  ceased  to  go 
out  in  all  weathers  and  was  feeling  a  growing 
dependence  on  the  indoor  pleasures  of  his 
home,  he  had  agreed  with  his  wife  that  it 
would  be  a  good  thing  to  have  some  young  life 
in  the  house,  and  that  of  all  the  persons  they 
knew  the  niece  Margey  was  best  adapted  to 
supply  the  missing  and  needed  element  in 
their  household  life. 

It  had  been  considered  by  Margey's  family 
that  it  was  a  most  fortunate  thing  that  her  rich 
uncle,  who  did  not  care  for  young  people, 
should  take  her  into  his  house,  and  for  a  time 
the  girl  herself  was  very  well  satisfied  with  the 
change  from  the  somewhat  contracted  subur- 
ban house  and  the  active  bustle  of  a  large  fam- 
ily to  the  quiet  rural  beauty  of  the  old  man- 
sion, its  garden,  its  lawn,  and  its  woodland. 
But  as  summer  passed  and  as  autumn,  with  its 
bright-hued  foliage,  came  and  went,  and  as  the 
rigors  of  winter  settled  themselves  upon  the 
land,  Margey  often  thought  of  the  stirring  life 
which  was  going  on  at  home,  where  winter 
was  the  liveliest  time  of  the  year.  Here,  when 


"COME  IN,  NEW  YEAR"  249 

the  snow  was  deep,  she  could  not  walk  much, 
and,  although  she  sometimes  went  sleighing, 
it  was  not  a  very  exhilarating  thing  to  sit 
wrapped  in  furs  by  the  side  of  her  aunt,  who 
seldom  spoke  when  she  was  out  in  the  frosty 
air,  and  who  would  have  been  unpleasantly  ag- 
itated if  the  horses  had  broken  into  the  fine 
spanking  gait  at  which  Margey  would  have 
driven  them  had  she  had  command  of  the  reins, 
or  even  command  of  the  coachman. 

At  last  Christmas  came,  but  it  was  a  dull 
time  for  Margey.  There  were  neighbors  in- 
vited, but  they  were  all  elderly  people  and  of 
a  reposeful  turn  of  mind.  Margey  received 
several  presents,  among  them  a  beautiful  little 
watch  from  her  uncle,  and,  although  she  had 
never  received  anything  which  could  compare 
with  these  Christmas  gifts,  they  did  not  com- 
pensate her  for  the  loss  of  the  holiday  atmos- 
phere of  her  home.  During  the  whole  day 
she  felt  as  though  she  were  attending  the  fu- 
neral of  Santa  Glaus. 

But  on  the  last  day  of  the  year  her  spirits 
sank  still  lower.  With  her  brothers  and  sisters 
and  the  elderly  members  of  the  family  she  had 
been  accustomed  ever  since  she  could  remem- 
ber to  make  a  great  deal  of  New  Year's  Eve, 


250  "  GONE  IN,   NEW  TEAR  " 

and  among  the  observances  which  were  never 
omitted  was  the  traditional  custom  of  opening 
the  front  door  of  the  house  exactly  as  the  clock 
struck  the  hour  of  midnight,  in  order  to  let  the 
New  Year  come  in.  Then,  altogether,  young 
and  old,  they  would  shout,  as  the  door  swung 
back:  "  Come  in,  New  Year!  Welcome,  New 
Year!  "  And  when  it  was  considered  that  the 
newcomer  had  really  crossed  the  threshold 
they  would  turn  to  each  other,  each  wishing 
all  a  happy  New  Year  and  many  more  to  come. 
This  time-honored  ceremony  was  to  Margey 
one  of  the  most  pleasant  features  of  the  holiday 
season,  for  it  concerned  not  only  the  joys  of 
the  moment,  but  those  of  happy  days  to  come. 

On  this  New  Year's  Eve  Margey  felt  her- 
self in  a  truly  doleful  mood.  Her  uncle  and 
aunt  had  gone  to  their  room  at  ten  o'clock,  and 
not  one  word  had  they  said  which  indicated 
that  they  considered  this  evening  to  be  in  any 
way  different  from  the  ordinary  evenings  of 
the  year.  To  Margey  this  seemed  like  a  sort 
of  domestic  sacrilege.  If  she  could  have  done 
so,  she  would  have  sped  away  to  her  home, 
even  if  it  had  been  necessary  to  speed  back 
again  before  the  cock  should  crow. 

She  went  to  her  room   not   because  she 


"  GOME  IN,  NEW  TEAR  "  251 

wanted  to  do  so,  but  because  the  lights  were 
all  put  out  down  stairs;  but  she  did  not  go  to 
bed.  She  sat  thinking  of  all  the  lively  scenes 
that  were  going  on  at  home.  Most  likely  they 
were  playing  charades,  but  they  would  be 
sure  to  stop  them  a  little  before  twelve.  Her 
mother  and  one  of  the  girls  would  be  getting 
things  together  for  a  little  supper,  for  they 
always  began  the  New  Year  with  something 
to  eat,  drink,  and  be  merry  over.  In  this  big, 
old  house  it  would  be  high-treason  to  eat  be- 
tween twelve  and  one  o'clock  at  night. 

The  hands  of  Margey's  new  watch  moved 
on  and  on  until  they  pointed  to  a  quarter  of 
twelve,  and  then  the  eyes  of  our  young  lady 
opened  wider  and  wider  as  she  sat  and  gazed 
at  the  wall  and  saw  the  family  at  home.  She 
could  see  them  just  as  well  as  though  they  were 
there. 

"  They  are  all  looking  at  the  clock,"  she 
said,  "  watching  and  waiting  and  talking. 
They  always  begin  too  soon  for  fear  of  being 
too  late.  Tom  is  standing  at  the  front  door 
now,  so  that  nobody  shall  get  ahead  of  him 
when  the  time  comes." 

For  a  few  moments  she  sat  as  though  her 
eyes  were  fixed  on  the  energetic  Tom,  when 
suddenly  she  rose  to  her  feet. 


252  "  COME  IN,   NEW  TEAR  " 

"  I'll  do  it,"  she  said,  "  even  if  I  have  to 
do  it  all  by  myself  in  the  dark.  I'll  go  down 
and  let  the  New  Year  in." 

Slowly  and  on  tiptoe  she  descended  the  soft- 
ly carpeted  staircase.  At  the  landing  which 
overlooked  the  hall  there  was  a  round  window, 
through  which  came  the  rays  of  the  full  moon, 
lighting  the  hall  and  stairway,  so  that  Margey 
could  see  her  way  without  the  slightest  trou- 
ble. The  big  clock  was  in  the  shadow,  but 
she  knew  it  was  not  yet  twelve,  and,  stepping 
lightly  to  the  great  hall  door,  she  went  quietly 
to  work  to  unfasten  it.  There  was  a  bolt  and 
a  chain  and  a  lock.  The  first  slipped  back 
easily  and  without  any  noise,  and  the  chain 
was  removed  in  a  moment,  but  the  lock  turned 
hard,  and  as  she  forced  the  big  key  around 
she  was  afraid  that  there  might  be  a  sudden 
click  which  would  be  heard  on  the  floor  above. 
It  would  be  a  dreadful  thing  if  her  aunt  should 
hear  it,  for  it  had  been  thoroughly  impressed 
on  her  mind  that  if  that  good  lady  should  be 
suddenly  startled  nobody  could  know  what 
might  happen.  But,  although  she  moved  the 
big  key  slowly  and  with  much  difficulty,  she 
moved  it  steadily,  and  finally  it  went  around 
as  far  as  it  would  go,  without  a  click. 


"COME  IN,   NEW  TEAR"  253 

The  door  was  unfastened.  She  turned  the 
knob  and  stood,  holding  it  firmly,  waiting  for 
midnight.  Very  soon  she  heard  a  whirring 
sound  in  the  big  clock  on  the  landing.  Then 
there  came  the  first  stroke  of  twelve,  and  with 
that  Margey  stepped  back  and  opened  wide  the 
door. 

"  Come  in!  "  she  said,  but  before  she  could 
utter  the  words  "  New  Year"  she  stopped  sud- 
denly, for  on  the  portico  in  front  of  her  she 
saw  a  man.  The  girl  was  on  the  point  of 
screaming,  but  even  at  this  dreadful  moment 
she  remembered  that  if  her  aunt  should  be 
startled  nobody  could  know  what  might  hap- 
pen, and  so  she  clapped  her  hand  to  her  mouth. 
She  sprang  back,  however.  She  could  not 
help  that,  and  at  the  same  moment  the  man 
stepped  into  the  hall. 

"  You  are  right,"  he  said  in  a  whisper,  and 
looking  at  the  hand  which  was  still  over  Mar- 
gey's  mouth.  "  I  understand.  I  won't  make 
the  least  noise  in  the  world.  Let  me  shut  the 
door.  I  can  do  it  very  quietly." 

If  the  cold  air  which  rushed  in  through 
the  open  doorway  had  frozen  Margey  as  stiff 
as  a  statue  she  could  not  have  been  more  in- 
capable of  speaking  or  moving  than  she  was  at 


254  "  COME  IN,   NEW  TEAR  " 

that  moment.  If  she  had  dared  to  cry  for 
help  or  tried  to  run  away,  she  would  not  have 
been  able  to  do  either.  She  stood  and  stared, 
whiter  than  the  moonlight.  The  man  was  re- 
fastening  the  door,  and  as  he  did  so  a  ray  of 
blessed  relief  came  into  the  mind  of  Margey. 
He  had  put  down  on  the  floor  a  valise 
and  an  umbrella.  Surely  no  burglar,  no 
wicked  man  of  any  sort,  would  go  about  with 
a  valise  and  an  umbrella,  and  he  seemed  to 
know  all  about  fastening  doors  without  mak- 
ing a  noise.  This  ray  of  relief  was  a  very  lit- 
tle ray,  but  it  revived  Margey  sufficiently  to 
enable  her  to  drop  her  hand  from  her  mouth. 
The  man  now  stepped  toward  the  library 
door,  and  with  one  finger  on  his  lip  he  beck- 
oned to  Margey.  She  was  so  astonished  at 
this  action  that,  almost  without  volition,  she 
followed  him.  She  was  so  thoroughly  fright- 
ened that  she  could  do  nothing  herself.  She 
had. not  even  the  strength  to  disobey,  but  as 
she  stepped  into  the  library  she  hugged  to  her 
heart  the  thought  of  the  umbrella  and  the 
valise.  The  man  took  from  his  pocket  a  box 
of  matches,  and,  striking  a  match,  he  stepped, 
without  the  slightest  hesitation,  to  the  corner 
of  the  mantel-piece,  on  which  stood  a  great 


"  COME  IN,  NEW  TEAR  "  255 

candlestick,  and  lighted  the  candle.  Then  he 
quietly  closed  the  door. 

"  I  do  that,"  he  said,  "  because  if  your  aunt 
should  hear  our  voices  and  be  startled,  there 
is  no  knowing  what  might  happen." 

"  How  could  he  know  that?  "  Margey  asked 
herself,  and  a  third  ray  of  comfort  was  added 
to  that  furnished  by  the  umbrella  and  valise. 
In  the  light  of  the  candle  Margey  could  see 
that  the  man  was  rather  short,  very  well  wrap- 
ped up,  and  wore  a  fur  cap,  which  now,  how- 
ever, he  removed,  showing  a  head  of  reddish 
brown  hair  a  little  curled,  and  with  some 
streaks  of  gray  on  the  temples.  His  face 
looked  as  if  he  had  lived  out  of  doors  a  good 
deal,  in  all  sorts  of  weather,  but  his  eyes  were 
bright,  and  there  was  a  pleasant  expression 
about  the  mouth,  as  if  he  would  be  glad  to 
laugh  if  there  were  anything  to  laugh  at. 

"  It  was  very,  very  good  of  you,"  he  said, 
still  speaking  in  an  undertone,  "  to  come  down 
and  let  me  in.  You  must  have  seen  me  from 
your  window.  I  was  afraid  there  was  no  one 
awake  in  the  house.  I  heard  you  at  work  at 
the  bolt  and  the  chain,  and  I  knew  why  you 
were  so  slow  and  so  quiet.  Of  course  I  can- 
not be  mistaken  in  supposing  you  to  be  Miss 
Griffith? " 


256  "  COME  IN,  NEW  TEAR  " 

Now  Margey  found  her  voice — that  is,  a  lit- 
tle of  it.  "  Yes,"  she  said,  "  and  who,  I  beg 
of  you,  sir — who  are  you?  " 

"  I  am  John  Brunder,  your  uncle's  brother. 
Surely  you  have  heard  of  me  ?  " 

"  A  very  little,"  said  Margey. 

"  And  how  much,  may  I  ask?  "  he  said, 
showing  some  surprise. 

"  I  never  heard  you  mentioned  but  once," 
she  replied,  "  and  that  was  one  day  when  I 
found  Aunt  Ellen  in  one  of  the  bedrooms 
which  I  had  not  seen  before,  the  door  having 
always  been  locked." 

"  Had  it  a  bedstead  in  it,"  said  he,  "  with  a 
curved  footboard  ? " 

"  Yes,  it  had,"  said  Margey,  more  and  more 
relief  coming  into  her  mind  each  moment. 

"  And  did  you  notice  anything  in  the  way 
of  sporting  articles — guns,  boxing  gloves?  " 

"  Yes,"  said  Margey.  "  There  were  boxing 
gloves  and  foils  on  the  wall  at  the  head  of  the 
bed  and  two  guns  on  a  rack,  and  there  were 
some  cases  in  the  corner  which  looked  as  if 
they  held  fishing-rods.  I  was  surprised  to  see 
these  things,  and  asked  Aunt  Ellen  to  whom 
they  belonged.  She  said  that  the  room  used  to 
be  occupied  by  Uncle  Horace's  brother  John, 
but  that  he  did  not  live  here  now." 


"  COME  IN,   NEW  TEAR  "  257 

"  Is  that  all  she  told  you?  "  he  asked. 

"  Every  word,"  said  Margey. 

He  gave  his  head  a  little  nod.  "  Perhaps 
it  was  as  well,"  he  said.  "  There's  no  use  in 
raking  up  disagreeable  things  before  young 
people.  But  I  am  glad  to  hear  that  my  old 
room  is  kept  just  as  it  used  to  be.  That's  a 
good  sister-in-law  of  mine,  and  I  hope  I  may 
not  do  a  thing  to  startle  her,  knowing  as  I  do 
that  no  one  could  tell " 

"  "What  might  happen,"  added  Margey,  in- 
voluntarily. 

"  But  you  ought  to  know  all  about  me,"  said 
he.  "  It  will  not  dp  for  you  to  be  ignorant  any 
longer,  especially  as  you  were  so  good  as  to 
come  down  to  let  me  in." 

"  But  I  didn't,"  said  Margey.  "  I  didn't 
come  down  to  let  you  in." 

"  Then  who,  in  the  name  of  common  sense, 
did  you  ask  to  come  in?  There  was  nobody 
but  me  on  the  porch." 

"  I  opened  the  door  for  the  New  Year  to 
come  in,"  said  Margey. 

John  Brunder  stood  and  looked  at  her  in 
amazement,  and  then  Margey,  who  had  almost 
recovered  her  self-possession,  told  him  all 
about  it. 


258  "  COME  IN,   NEW  YEAR  " 

"  Well,  well,  well!  "  he  exclaimed,  "  you're 
the  kind  of  girl  I  like.  I  knew  that  a  niece 
of  my  brother's  wife  was  living  here,  but  I  had 
no  idea  she  was  such  a — such  a  girl  as  you  are ! 
What  is  your  name?  " 

"  Margey." 

"  Miss  Margey,"  said  John  Brunder,  ex- 
tending his  hand,  "  I  wish  you  a  very  happy 
New  Year." 

"  The  same  to  you,  sir,"  said  she,  giving  him 
her  hand. 

"  And  now  you  want  to  know  why  I  don't 
live  here,"  said  John  Brunder.  "  You  cer- 
tainly have  a  right  to  know,  and  I  will  tell  you 
in  as  few  words  as  possible.  I  was  born  in  this 
house  and  have  lived  here  a  good  deal,  off  and 
on,  and  the  last  time  I  took  up  my  abode  in 
the  room  with  the  bedstead  with  the  curly  foot- 
board I  thought  I  was  settled  for  life,  but  my 
brother  and  I  are  very  different  in  disposition. 
He  is  more  sober  and  quiet  than  I  am,  and  I 
am  a  great  deal  more  lively  and  restless  than  he 
is,  and  there  you  have  our  characters  in  as  few 
words  as  possible.  About  six  years  ago  we  had 
a  misunderstanding.  I  will  not  say  anything 
about  it,  because  he  is  not  here  to  present  his 
side  of  the  question,  and  under  the  circum- 


"  GOME  IN,  NEW  TEAR  "  259 

stances  it  would  not  be  fair  for  me  to  present 
mine.  However,  I  am  very  hot-headed  at 
times — not  always,  mind  you,  for  generally  I 
am  very  mild  indeed,  but  at  this  particular 
time  I  ignited  and  went  off  like  a  fire-cracker, 
and  you  know  that  when  a  fire-cracker  goes 
off  it  doesn't  come  back  again." 

Margey  was  listening  with  great  interest. 
She  and  her  companion  had  seated  themselves, 
and  she  was  rapidly  losing  all  fear  of  him. 

"  As  I  told  you,"  he  continued,  "  I  went 
off  and  did  not  intend  to  come  back,  but  grad- 
ually my  ideas  began  to  change.  My  brother 
was  getting  old — so  was  I,  for  that  matter — 
and  I  determined  to  try  to  be  reconciled  with 
him.  I  started  out  this  day  thinking  it  would 
be  a  good  thing  to  begin  the  !N"ew  Year  in 
harmony  and  brotherly  love.  I  expected  to  be 
here  early  in  the  evening,  but  my  train  was 
detained  for  a  long  time,  and  I  really  did  not 
know  how  late  it  was  when  I  walked  up  here. 
I  was  dumf  ounded  at  finding  the  house  all  shut 
up  and  dark,  and  I  could  not  think  what  to  do, 
for  I  knew  very  well  that  if  I  rang  the  bell  I 
might  startle  your  Aunt  Ellen,  in  which  case 
nobody  could  know  what  might  happen.  So 
I  stood  there  deliberating,  and  I  really  believe 


260  "  COME  IN,  NEW  TEAR  " 

I  was  on  the  point  of  walking  back  to  the  vil- 
lage when  I  heard  someone  opening  the  door 
so  gently  and  quietly  that  I  was  positively 
certain  it  was  highly  desirable  not  to  make  a 
noise.  So,  you  see,  I  was  not  surprised  when 
the  door  opened.  I  supposed  that  someone, 
probably  Joseph  Buckle,  had  seen  me  arrive. 
By  the  way,  is  Joseph  still  here?  " 

"  Oh,  yes!  "  said  Margey. 

"  I  am  glad  of  that,"  said  John  Brunder. 
"  Joseph  was  always  a  good  friend  of  mine. 
Now  you  see,"  he  continued,  "  just  how  things 
stand.  You  come  down  to  let  the  New  Year 
in,  and  in  I  pop.  I  hope  the  New  Year  came 
in  with  me,  and  that  it  will  prove  to  be  the  hap- 
piest that  any  of  us  has  yet  known." 

"  So  do  I,"  said  Margey,  but  she  had  always 
wished  that  ever  since  she  had  known  what  a 
New  Year  meant. 

John  Brunder  rose.  "  My  dear  young 
friend,  Miss  Margey,"  he  said,  "  what  are  we 
going  to  do  next?  And  if  you  will  allow  me 
to  answer  my  own  question  I  will  say  that  the 
very  best  thing  you  can  do  for  me  is  to  give  me 
something  to  eat,  or,  if  it  will  please  you  bet- 
ter, allow  me  to  get  it  myself,  for  if  the  pantry 
of  this  house  is  still  under  the  charge  of  Joseph 
Buckle  I  know  where  to  find  the  eatables." 


"  COME  IN,   NEW  TEAR  "  261 

For  a  minute  Margey  stood  and  looked 
earnestly  at  the  good-natured  gentleman.  She 
believed,  just  as  firmly  as  she  believed  any- 
thing, that  he  was  Mr.  John  Brunder,  the 
younger  brother  of  her  Uncle  Horace,  but  still 
she  had  no  positive  proof  of  the  fact;  she  had 
only  his  word  for  it.  Was  it  right  for  her  to 
allow  him  to  go  about  the  house  and  eat  things 
without  giving  the  family  notice  of  his  pres- 
ence? But  if  she  were  to  go  upstairs  and 
knock  at  her  uncle's  door,  her  Aunt  Ellen — 
oh,  no;  she  could  not  do  that  at  this  time  of 
night. 

He  laughed.  He  was  almost  on  the  point  of 
laughing  aloud,  but  he  checked  himself.  "  I 
know  what  you  are  thinking  about,"  said  he, 
"  and  it  is  perfectly  right  for  you  to  think  so." 

"  Oh,  I  don't  really  think,"  said  Margey 
apologetically,  "  but,  you  see,  I— 

"  Of  course  I  see !  "  he  answered.  "  I  see, 
perfectly.  Just  wait  a  minute."  So  saying, 
he  picked  up  his  umbrella.  "  Now,  please  look 
at  the  name  on  this  silver  plate,"  said  he,  hold- 
ing it  close  to  the  candle. 

Margey  obeyed.  "  But  that  isn't  your 
name !  "  she  exclaimed  in  surprise.  "  That  is 
my  uncle's  name,  Horace  Brunder!  " 


262  "  COME  IN,   NEW  TEAR'1 

"  To  be  sure  it  is!  "  said  he.  "  I  took  it 
away  by  mistake  and  left  mine.  If  he  refuses 
to  be  reconciled  with  me,  we  can  change  um- 
brellas anyway,  so  that  my  time  will  not  be  en- 
tirely lost." 

Margey  smiled.  "  I  think  that  is  a  queer 
way  to  prove  your  identity,"  she  said,  "  but 
as  I  truly  believe  it  doesn't  need  any  proving 
it  does  not  matter." 

"  It  is  a  very  good  proof,"  persisted  the 
other.  "  If  I  were  an  improper  person  and 
had  taken  that  umbrella,  do  you  suppose  I 
would  have  brought  it  back?  And  now  let's 
go  into  the  pantry.  I'm  nearly  famished." 

So  saying,  he  picked  up  the  candlestick, 
and,  shading  the  flame  so  that  no  ray  of  it 
should  go  upstairs,  he  crossed  the  hall  into 
the  dining-room.  Margey  followed,  and  as  she 
saw  how  deftly  he  made  his  way  around  the 
furniture  and  toward  the  pantry  she  felt  posi- 
tively assured  that  he  must  at  one  time  have 
been  very  much  at  home  in  that  house.  In 
the  pantry  John  Brunder  put  the  candlestick 
down  and  looked  about  him. 

"  Do  you  still  eat  Albert  biscuit?  "  he  asked. 

"  Oh,  yes!  "  replied  Margey. 

"  Then  I  know  where  Joseph  Buckle  keeps 


"  COME  IN,   NEW  YEAR"  263 

them.  Joseph  never  changes.  If  a  thing  be- 
longs in  one  place,  it  belongs  there  always. 
There,"  said  he,  opening  a  dresser  drawer. 
"  Here  is  the  tin  box,  just  where  I  have  found 
it  hundreds  of  times  before." 

Margey  now  thought  she  ought  to  help  a 
little.  To  be  sure,  this  genial  gentleman 
seemed  to  know  so  well  where  to  find  the  eat- 
ables that  she  might  have  gone  to  bed  and  left 
him  to  take  care  of  himself,  but  this  did  not 
suit  her  ideas  of  propriety  or  proper  hospital- 
ity, so  she  opened  another  closet. 

"  Do  you  eat  cheese  at  this  time  of  night, 
sir?  "  she  asked. 

"  Oh,  yes,"  he  replied,  "  when  I  am  as  hun- 
gry as  I  am  now!  And  isn't  that  a  box  of 
sardines?  Open,  too!  Now,  let  us  take  these 
things  over  to  the  table.  No,  I  don't  want  any 
plate.  All  I  want  is  a  knife  to  cut  the  cheese."  • 
And  as  he  spoke  he  opened  a  drawer  and  took 
out  a  knife.  "  Now,  my  dear,"  said  he,  "  if 
you  will  look  in  the  corner  of  that  second 
shelf  and  see  if  there  is  not  a  box  of  preserved 
ginger  there  I  shall  be  much  obliged  to  you. 
Joseph  always  kept  preserved  ginger  in  that 
corner." 

Margey  laughed  as  she  produced  the  tin 


264:  "  GOME  IN,   NEW  TEAR  " 

box.  "  You  do  seem  to  know  where  things 
are  kept  in  this  house,"  she  said,  "  and  I  don't 
believe  anybody  has  eaten  cheese  and  sardines 
at  this  time  of  night  since  you  went  away." 

"  No,"  said  he,  seating  himself  at  his  im- 
promptu meal;  "my  brother  Horace  never 
indulges  in  such  improprieties,  but  I  was  al- 
ways much  more  imprudent.  But,  so  far  as 
I  can  see,  my  imprudences  have  agreed  with 
me." 

"  Perhaps  that  is  because  you  are  so  much 
younger,"  said  Margey. 

"  Younger,  yes,"  said  John  Brunder,  "  of 
course  I  am  younger,  but  perhaps  I  ought  not 
to  fall  back  too  much  on  my  youth,  for  I  am 
fifty-six.  However,"  he  added,  "  so  long  as 
I  am  able  to  eat  cheese  and  sardines  in  the 
middle  of  the  night  I  am  not  going  to  com- 
plain of  my  age." 

Margey  was  looking  at  him  with  great  in- 
terest, thinking  it  must  have  been  a  long  time 
since  he  had  had  anything  to  eat,  when  sud- 
denly she  heard  a  little  noise.  It  was  like  a 
person  coming  cautiously  down  stairs.  She 
started  and  listened  earnestly.  There  could 
be  no  mistake.  She  heard  footsteps  on  the 
backstairs,  the  door  of  which  opened  not  far 


"  COME  IN,   NEW  TEAR"  265 

from  the  place  where  she  stood.  John  Brun- 
der  stopped  eating,  and  half  rose  from  his 
chair. 

"  Somebody  coming!  "  he  whispered. 

Now  the  door  of  the  stairway  slowly  opened, 
and  from  behind  it  protruded  the  head  of  Jo- 
seph Buckle,  the  butler.  His  face  was  pale, 
his  eyes  and  mouth  were  wide  open,  and  a  big 
club,  which  he  thrust  out  in  front  of  him, 
trembled  in  his  hand.  John  Brunder  rose  to 
his  feet  and  pushed  back  his  chair. 

"Jo-seph!"  he  exclaimed.  "Upon  my 
word,  it  is  the  same  old  Joseph!  I  say, 
Joseph,  how  do  you  do?  " 

The  old  butler  stepped  down  and  stood  mo- 
tionless on  the  floor,  his  big  stick  in  one  hand 
and  a  lantern  in  the  other.  He  looked  at  Mar- 
gey,  and  then  he  looked  at  John  Brunder. 

"Mr.  John!"  he  exclaimed  in  a  voice 
muffled  by  fright,  caution,  and  amazement. 
Then,  turning  his  head,  he  added,  "  And  Miss 
Margey!  " 

"  Give  me  your  hand,  my  good  Joseph," 
said  John  Brunder.  I  don't  wonder  you  don't 
believe  your  senses.  But  what  are  you  doing 
with  that  club?  Did  you  think  we  were  burg- 
lars? " 


266  "  OOME  IN,   NEW  TEAR  " 

"  I  did,  sir,"  said  Joseph.  "  I  heard  voices, 
and  I  was  sure  there  was  somebody  in  the 
house,  and  so  I  came  down." 

"  Why  didn't  you  bring  a  pistol?  "What 
would  you  have  done  with  that  club  if  we  had 
really  been  burglars? " 

"  Oh,  I  couldn't  bring  a  pistol,  sir,"  said 
Joseph.  "  If  I  should  fire  a  pistol  and  Mrs. 
Brunder  should  hear  it,  there's  no  knowing 
what  might  happen.  So  I  had  to  come  down 
with  nothing  but  a  club." 

"  You're  a  brave  fellow,"  said  John  Brun- 
der, "  and  a  loyal  one,  and  I  am  glad  for  your 
sake  as  well  as  for  our  own  that  we  are  not  rob- 
bers. You  see,  Joseph,  I  have  not  forgotten 
where  you  keep  the  good  things  to  eat." 

Margey  now  took  pity  on  the  bewildered 
butler  and  told  him  everything  that  had  hap- 
pened. 

"Well,  well!"  exclaimed  Joseph.  "I'm 
wonderfully  glad  to  see  you,  Mr.  John.  It's 
been  a  different  house  here  since  you  went 
away,  sir.  Don't  you  remember,  sir,  we  used 
to  open  the  front  door  for  the  New  Year  when 
you  lived  here? " 

"  Of  course  I  do,"  said  John  Brunder.  "  I 
always  used  to  have  some  youngsters  here,  and 
we  had  fine  times." 


"COME  IN,   NEW  TEAR  '  267 

"  And  if  I  had  had  any  idea,  miss,  that  you 
were  used  to  that  sort  of  thing  I'd  have  come 
down  to  help  you." 

"  Oh,  she  didn't  need  anybody's  help,"  said 
Mr.  John.  "  She  did  it  as  well  as  an  angel 
could  have  done  it.  If  I  had  gone  back  to  the 
village,  I  believe  I  should  have  been  so  cross 
that  I  would  have  started  for  the  city  early 
in  the  morning.  You  know  that's  my  way, 
Joseph." 

"  Yes,  sir,"  said  the  old  man,  "  and  some- 
times it  has  been  a  pity  that  it  was  your  way. 
But  would  you  like  me  to  go  and  waken  Mr. 
Brunder,  sir?  I  think  I  can  do  it  without 
making  any  stir." 

"  Oh,  no,  no,  no !  "  exclaimed  Mr.  John. 
"  Don't  think  of  it.  If  either  of  you  ever 
wants  to  be  reconciled  with  anybody,  don't 
make  him  get  out  of  a  warm  bed  of  a  cold  night 
to  do  it.  No,  I'll  wait  until  morning.  You 
can  get  me  into  my  old  room,  can't  you,  Jo- 
seph, without  disturbing  anybody?  " 

"  Of  course  I  can,"  said  Joseph.  "  We'll 
go  up  the  backstairs." 

"  Then  I'll  bid  you  good-night,"  said  Mar- 
gey,  "  as  I  can  do  nothing  more  for  you." 

"  More!  "  exclaimed  Mr.  John.     "  If  it  is 


268  "  00MB  IN,   NEW  TEAR  " 

all  right  between  my  brother  and  me  to-mor- 
row morning,  there  isn't  a  being  on  earth  who 
could  have  done  as  much.  And  I  am  very 
sorry,  indeed,  that  I  have  kept  you  up  so  late." 
With  this  he  picked  up  the  candle,  and  he  and 
Joseph  escorted  Margey  to  the  foot  of  the  great 
stairway,  where  she  bade  them  good-night  and 
went  quietly  up  in  the  moonlight. 

When  Margey  reached  her  room,  she  did 
not  go  to  bed.  It  was  very  late,  not  far  from 
one  o'clock,  but  she  did  not  mind  that.  Some 
of  the  family  at  home  were  up  yet.  It  was 
the  most  natural  thing  in  the  world  to  sit  up 
late  on  New  Year's  eve.  Then  she  began  to 
think  of  all  that  had  just  happened.  It  cer- 
tainly had  been  a  good  thing  that  she  had  been 
loyal  to  the  old  custom  of  the  family,  a  wonder- 
fully good  thing,  for  she  was  sure  if  Mr.  John 
were  as  good-natured  and  as  jolly  in  the  morn- 
ing as  he  had  been  that  night  his  brother  could 
not  help  being  reconciled.  She  would  be  very 
glad,  too,  if  he  should  come  back,  and  live 
there.  It  would  be  so  pleasant  to  have  such 
a  jolly  person  in  the  house. 

As  she  thought  and  thought  the  affair  of 
the  evening  seemed  like  a  romance  to  her.  If 
all  turned  out  well,  it  would  really  be  a  holiday 


"  COME  IN,  NEW  TEAR  "  269 

story.  And  yet  there  was  an  imperfection  in 
the  romance.  It  was  not  altogether  the  sort 
of  story  she  would  have  made  if  she  had  been 
writing  it,  and  neither  was  it  exactly  the  sort 
of  real  happening  that  it  would  have  been  if 
she  had  arranged  it.  Mr.  John  was  as  bright 
and  as  cheery  as  anybody  could  be,  but  still 
if  she  had  had  the  management  of  everything 
and  was  going  to  make  a  romance  in  real  life, 
which  it  might  just  as  well  have  been,  her  own 
personality  would  not  have  been  the  only  ele- 
ment of  youth  in  this  pleasant  invention. 
Margey  was  capable  of  being  very  fond  of  el- 
derly people,  but  still  she  was  young — she  was 
not  yet  twenty — and  if  the  person  who  came 
with  the  New  Year  had  been  just  like  Mr. 
John,  only  younger —  But  she  would  not 
think  such  thoughts  as  these.  She  ought  to  be 
ashamed  of  herself.  Still,  for  all  that,  fifty- 
six  was  pretty  old.  Everybody  in  that  house 
seemed  to  be  so  old !  Her  favorite  maid,  Mary, 
had  a  married  daughter,  and,  so  far  as  the 
romance  of  the  evening  was  concerned,  things 
might  have  been  different  just  as  well  as 
not. 

When  at  last  she  pressed  her  face  to  the 
pillow,  she  was  still  thinking. 


270  "  COME  IN,   NEW  TEAR  " 

"  Fifty-six,"  she  said  to  herself,  "  and  it 
might  just  as  well  have  been — have  been  " — 
And  she  had  not  decided  upon  the  exact  age  it 
might  have  been,  when  she  dropped  asleep. 

The  next  morning  Margey  was  downstairs 
very  early,  nearly  a  quarter  of  an  hour  before 
breakfast,  for  she  was  anxious  to  know  every- 
thing which  should  happen.  In  the  hall  she 
met  Joseph. 

"  I  wish  you  a  very  happy  New  Year,  miss," 
he  said.  "  I  forgot  it  last  night,  being  so  rat- 
tled, and  if  anybody  deserves  a  happy  New 
Year  you  do,  miss." 

All  the  romance  had  gone  out  of  Margey's 
mind,  and  things  seemed  very  commonplace 
to  her  in  the  cold  light  of  day. 

"  I  don't  believe  I  had  anything  to  do  with 
anything,"  she  said.  "  Mr.  John  Brunder 
would  have  waited  a  little  while  longer,  and 
then  he  would  have  rung  the  bell,  even  if  it 
should  startle  my  aunt." 

"  Oh,  no,  no,  no !  "  said  Joseph.  "  He 
wouldn't  have  done  that.  Nobody  knows 
what  might  have  happened  if  he  had  done 
that.  But  you'll  be  glad  to  hear,  miss,  that 
everything  is  all  right.  They've  been  up  since 
a  quarter  past  seven,  for  I  told  Mr.  Brunder 


"  GOME  IN,   NEW  TEAR  "  271 

the  news  when  I  first  went  into  his  room.  I 
have  not  known  such  early  goings-on  since 
Mr.  John  went  away." 

"And  they  are  truly  reconciled  ?  "  asked 
Margey. 

"  Indeed  they  are ! "  answered  Joseph. 
11  They're  all  upstairs  in  the  study  now,  as 
merry  as  crickets.  Even  Mrs.  Brunder  wasn't 
a  bit  startled,  or  if  she  was  it  didn't  hurt  her. 
There,,  miss,  that's  the  study  door  now. 
They're  coming  down  and  in  a  family  party, 
just  as  they  ought  to  be."  And  with  this  he 
retired  to  the  dining-room  door. 

Margey  waited  in  the  hall.  It  delighted  her 
to  know  that  her  Uncle  Horace  and  his  brother 
were  good  friends  again,  and  that  her  aunt  was 
happy,  and  that  the  house  would  be  more 
cheerful,  and  if  she  had  done  anything  to  help 
bring  this  about  she  was  very  glad  of  it,  but  the 
vague  and  wandering  thoughts  which  had 
filled  her  mind  the  night  before  had  all  gone. 
The  romance  of  the  affair  had  vanished. 

Downstairs  came  the  happy  party,  merrily 
talking.  Her  Uncle  Horace  was  first  of  all, 
his  face  brighter  than  she  had  ever  seen  it,  and 
as  soon  as  he  perceived  her  he  called  out, 
"  Happy  New  Year,  Margey !  "  in  a  voice  so 


272  "COME  IN,   NEW  YEAR" 

strong  and  hearty  that  she  could  scarcely  be- 
lieve it  belonged  to  him.  Then  her  aunt,  who 
seemed  really  in  a  hurry  to  come  downstairs, 
gave  her  the  same  greeting,  which  was  echoed 
loudly  by  Mr.  John,  who  was  a  little  in  the 
rear. 

"  Happy  ]STew  Year  to  "•  —you  all!  she  was 
about  to  add,  but  she  did  not.  She  simply 
stood  and  gazed,  her  face  turning  now  a  little 
pale  and  now  a  little  red,  and  her  eyes  wide 
open  with  wonderment.  The  last  person  of 
the  party  coming  down  the  stairs,  a  little  be- 
hind Mr.  John,  was  a  man  evidently  young. 
He  had  no  beard,  and  his  face  was  very  fresh- 
colored.  He  was  tall,  too;  taller  than  her 
Uncle  Horace.  She  thought  he  looked  as 
though  he  wanted  to  bid  her  a  happy  New 
Year,  too,  but  he  did  not  do  it. 

Now  Mr.  John  laughed  aloud,  and  they  all 
laughed,  excepting  the  young  man,  who  ap- 
parently knew  what  they  were  laughing  about, 
and  who  turned  a  little  red,  and  excepting 
Margey,  who  did  not  know  what  they  were 
laughing  at,  and  who  turned  somewhat  pale. 

"Ah,  Margey,"  shouted  Mr.  John,  "I 
know  what  you  are  thinking  about!  You're 
wondering  where  he  came  from — you're  won- 


"  GOME  INt   NEW   YEAR  "  273 

dering  where  he  came  from  a  good  deal  more 
than  you  are  wondering  who  he  is.  You  don't 
know  whether  I  brought  him  in  my  valise  or 
folded  up  inside  the  umbrella." 

"  Now,  John,"  said  Aunt  Ellen,  "  you  are 
positively  cruel.  Margey,  this  is  Arthur,  your 
Uncle  John's  son.  And,  Arthur,  I  must  make 
you  acquainted  with  my  niece,  Margey  Grif- 
fith." 

The  young  people  silently  shook  hands, 
harmonizing  in  color  as  they  did  so,  for  the 
recollection  of  her  romantic  fancies  suddenly 
came  across  Margey's  mind  and  flushed  her 
face. 

"  Oh,  I  am  not  going  to  be  cruel !  "  cried 
Mr.  John.  "  This  young  man  made  the  trip 
with  me  yesterday,  but  I  thought  it  better  for 
me  to  leave  him  at  the  village  and  to  come  to 
the  house  by  myself;  for  when  Arthur  went 
away  he  was  nothing  but  a  boy,  scarcely  fif- 
teen, and  I  did  not  know  how  he  might  be 
received." 

"  Which  was  all  stuff  and  nonsense,"  said 
Mr.  Horace  Brunder.  "  You  ought  to  have 
known  that  he  would  be  welcome." 

"  Well,"  said  Mr.  John,  "  I  thought  I  could 
manage  things  better  by  myself,  and  as  you 


274  "  CO  ME  TN,   NEW  TEAR  " 

sent  for  him  early  this  morning  he  has  nothing 
to  complain  of.  Moreover,  if  I  had  brought 
Arthur  along  with  me  I  don't  believe  I  should 
have  had  enough  to  eat  last  night,  for  he's  a 
great  deal  worse  in  regard  to  cheese  and  sar- 
dines in  the  middle  of  the  night  than  I  am ;  but 
everything's  all  right  now,  and  as  this  young 
lady  is  really  to  consider  me  as  one  of  her 
uncles  she  might  as  well  begin  instantly,  and 
so  I  am  going  to  bid  her  a  happy  New  Year 
again,  and  give  her  a  kiss,"  which  he  did  with- 
out delay,  and  then  Aunt  Ellen  kissed  her,  and 
then  Uncle  Horace  did  so. 

No,  not  Arthur.  It  was  not  until  the 
seventh  of  April  of  that  year  that  he  found 
himself  entitled  to  that  inestimable  privilege. 

There  were  a  great  many  things  which  had 
to  happen  before  the  seventh  of  April. 

In  the  first  place,  Margey  had  to  learn  all 
about  the  trouble  which  had  resulted  in  Mr. 
John's  leaving  the  old  family  home,  and  when 
she  discovered  that  the  quarrel  between  the 
brothers  had  been  caused  by  some  mad  pranks 
of  the  boy  Arthur  she  set  herself  earnestly  to 
work  to  analyze  the  mind  of  the  young  man 
Arthur  and  to  find  out  for  herself  the  interest- 
ing series  of  developments  which  must  have 


"  COME  IN,   NEW  TEAR  "  275 

taken  place  in  his  character  to  change  him 
from  the  reckless  youngster  to  the  exceedingly 
kind-hearted  and  considerate  young  man  that 
he  now  was. 

Like  many  other  persons  in  this  world, 
Margey  was  very  fond  of  the  study  of  human 
nature :  meaning  thereby,  as  is  often  the  case, 
that  she  had  formed  an  ideal  concerning  a  cer- 
tain subject,  and  that  she  hoped  to  be  able  to 
convince  herself  that  the  subject  was  equal  to 
her  ideal. 

She  did  not  have  uninterrupted  opportuni- 
ties for  continuing  her  study,  for  after  a  week 
or  two  Arthur  was  obliged  to  go  away,  but 
he  came  back  as  soon  as  he  could,  and  he  as- 
sisted her  so  much  in  coming  to  a  satisfactory 
conclusion  in  regard  to  himself  and  his  re- 
lation to  her  ideal  that  by  the  time  the  seventh 
of  April  came  around  her  education  in  this 
branch  was  entirely  finished. 

On  the  next  New  Year's  eve,  a  little  before 
twelve  o'clock,  every  member  of  that  family, 
including  Joseph  Buckle  and  some  other 
household  servants,  assembled  in  the  great  hall 
to  invite  the  New  Year  to  enter.  To  Margey 
was  assigned  the  duty  of  opening  the  door, 
and  she  did  it  all  herself,  refusing  any  assist- 


276  "  COME  IN,  NEW  TEAR  " 

ance,  even  from  the  very  urgent  young  man 
who  stood  close  beside  her. 

When  the  great  door  was  opened  wide  and 
everybody  all  at  once  cried  out  cheerily, 
"  Come  in,  New  Year !  "  there  entered  noth- 
ing but  a  great  blast  of  cold  and  frosty  air, 
but  everybody  knew  that  the  New  Year  had 
come  in,  and  the  door  was  closed. 

"  Now,"  said  Mr.  John,  "  this  is  all  very 
well,  but  I  can  tell  you,  my  good  relatives  and 
friends,  that  no  happier  New  Year  will  ever 
pass  that  threshold  than  when  Last  Year  and 
I  came  in  together." 

Margey  and  Arthur  had  some  doubts  about 
this,  for  they  were  to  be  married  in  the  spring. 


A  SAILOR'S   KNOT 


A  SAILOR'S  KNOT 

SIDE  by  side  with  Florence  Brower,  I  stood 
upon  the  sea-sands.  We  had  been  walk- 
ing along  the  beach,  and  now  we  had  stopped 
to  look  out  over  the  ocean.  I  had  known  this 
beautiful  girl  for  about  a  year,  and  the  love 
for  her  which  had  been  gradually  growing 
up  in  my  heart  had  become  so  absolutely  irre- 
sistible that,  the  day  before,  I  had  come  down 
to  the  little  seaside  village,  where  Florence  and 
her  aunt  were  spending  the  summer,  on  pur- 
pose to  tell  her  that  I  loved  her,  and  to  end,  in 
one  way  or  another,  the  suspense  which  tossed 
my  soul  in  a  storm  far  more  violent,  I  believed, 
than  any  which  had  ever  broken  upon  this 
coast. 

If,  up  to  that  moment,  Florence  had  not 
known  that  she  loved  me  she  had  no  doubt  of 
it  when  I  had  finished  speaking.  She  could 
not  conceal  the  truth  from  herself,  and  she  did 
not  try  to  do  it.  She  withdrew  her  gaze  from 
279 


280  A  SAILOR'S  KNOT 

the  sea  and  dropped  it  upon  a  little  strip  of 
sand  between  us.  In  a  very  few  words,  but 
as  plainly  as  I  had  spoken  in  many  words,  she 
answered  me.  She  gave  me  the  heart  which 
I  had  just  taught  her  to  know. 

In  the  beautiful  world  in  which  we  walked 
together,  or  stood  together,  during  the  next 
hour,  there  were  many  wonderful  things — the 
sky,  the  sea,  the  sparkling  air,  the  scent  of  the 
pine  woods  on  the  bluff;  but  there  was  noth- 
ing so  wonderful  as  the  great  knowledge  that 
Florence  was  mine.  I  could  scarcely  under- 
stand it;  I  did  not  try  to  comprehend  it. 

At  last  the  time  came  when  we  must  go  back 
to  the  village.  We  walked  slowly,  sometimes, 
in  the  lonely  stretches,  hand  in  hand. 

On  the  outskirts  of  the  village  we  met  a  jolly 
old  sea-captain,  retired  from  active  service  and 
known  to  us  both — Captain  Asa  Lopper  by 
name.  When  his  eyes  fell  upon  us  a  curious 
grin  came  over  his  wrinkled  face  as  he  gave 
us  an  abbreviated  greeting.  My  response  was 
so  loud,  so  hearty,  so  cordial  that  the  old  man 
must  have  known  that  something  extraordi- 
nary had  happened  to  me;  but  it  struck  me 
with  surprise  that  Florence  scarcely  spoke  to 
the  captain  at  all.  In  fact,  when  she  saw  him 


A  SAILOR'S  KNOT  281 

she  gave  a  little  start,  and  after  that,  for  some 
minutes,  she  did  not  say  anything.  She  soon 
recovered  herself,  however,  and  talked  cheer- 
fully until  we  reached  the  cottage  where  she 
and  her  aunt  were  staying. 

I  wished  to  go  into  the  house,  that  together 
we  might  tell  the  glorious  news  to  Miss  Moul- 
ton,  but  Florence  gently  objected. 

"  It  would  be  better,"  she  said,  "  if  I  were 
to  tell  her  myself.  Of  course  it  will  be  a  great 
surprise  to  her." 

That  evening  when,  at  the  earliest  justifi- 
able moment,  I  called  at  the  cottage  I  did  not 
see  Miss  Moulton.  Florence  told  me  that  her 
aunt  had  a  headache  and  begged  to  be  excused. 

"  You  have  told  her  of  our  engagement," 
I  said;  "  what  does  she  think  of  it?  " 

Florence  smiled. 

"  I  am  bound  to  say,"  she  answered,  "  that 
she  does  not  like  it;  but  you  must  not  mind 
that.  Any  engagement  I  might  make  would 
be  a  great  shock  to  her.  Ever  since  my 
mother's  death,  when  I  was  five  years  old,  my 
aunt  and  I  have  lived  together.  She  has  no 
control  over  me;  I  am  of  age,  and  I  am  en- 
tirely my  own  mistress,  but  it  is  natural  enough 
that  the  news  I  gave  her  would  shock  her." 


282  A  SAILOR'S  KNOT 

Then  my  dear  girl  changed  the  subject,  and 
the  world  was  very  bright. 

The  next  morning  I  hoped  to  see  Miss  Moul- 
ton  as  well  as  Florence  and  to  make  my  peace 
with  the  older  lady.  Of  course  she  could  have 
no  personal  objection  to  me,  and  I  knew  she 
was  a  good  woman ;  so,  filled  with  the  courage 
of  the  morning,  I  did  not  fear  that  I  could 
make  it  possible  for  her  to  see  me  without  a 
headache.  But  when  I  neared  the  cottage  I 
saw  that  that  was  no  place  for  me  that  morn- 
ing. There  were  summer  dresses  and  straw 
hats  upon  the  piazza,  a  good  many  of  them. 
Some  of  the  village  ladies  were  making  a  call. 

After  an  early  dinner  I  was  smoking  a  cigar 
in  a  little  summer-house  at  the  bottom  of  the 
hotel  garden,  when  a  boy  came  to  me  and 
told  me  that  a  gentleman  wished  to  see  me. 
I  was  surprised  at  this,  for  I  was  but  little  ac- 
quainted in  the  village,  and  when  I  reached 
the  hotel  I  found  in  the  office  a  middle-aged 
man  whom  I  had  never  seen  before.  He  was 
a  serious-visaged  person  with  gray  whiskers 
and  introduced  himself  by  means  of  his  card 
as  Romney  C.  Lloyd,  attorney-at-law,  of  ]STew 
York,  and  then  asked  me  if  I  would  be  kind 
•enough  to  allow  him  a  private  conversation. 


A  SAILOR'S  KNOT  283 

I  conducted  him  to  the  reading-room,  which 
during  the  day  was  seldom  tenanted.  Here 
we  sat  down  and  he  opened  the  conversation. 

"  I  am  here,  Mr.  Kadnor,"  he  said,  "  on 
account  of  a  telegram  which  I  received  last 
night  from  Miss  Hester  Moulton.  I  took  an 
early  train  this  morning,  and  am  very  glad  I 
found  you  at  home,  sir,  for  I  wish  to  return 
to-day." 

"  Do  you  mean,"  I  exclaimed,  "  that  Miss 
Moulton  telegraphed  you  to  come  to  see 
me?" 

"  She  did,"  Mr.  Lloyd  replied,  "  and  on 
very  important  business,  I  assure  you,  sir." 

"  And  what  is  your  business? "  I  asked. 
"  Has  it  anything  to  do  with  my  engagement 
to  Miss  Brower? " 

"  It  most  certainly  has,"  said  he.  "  But  be- 
fore I  enter  upon  the  subject,  let  me  ask  you 
if  you  have  any  knowledge  of  Miss  Brower's 
father,  Gideon  Brower?" 

"  I  know  nothing  about  him,"  I  replied, 
"  except  that  he  has  been  dead  for  a  good  many 
years." 

"  Nine  years,  sir,  in  September  next.  And 
as  you  know  nothing  about  him  I  will  give  you 
some  information.  He  was  a  very  eccentric 


284  A  SAILOR'S  KNOT 

person,  but  his  eccentricity  was  not  of  a  char- 
acter which  could  give  any  reason  to  doubt 
the  perfect  soundness  of  his  intellect.  He  had 
his  own  ideas,  and  he  carried  them  out  with- 
out regard  to  the  opinions  of  other  people.  For 
the  greater  part  of  his  life  he  was  a  sea-cap- 
tain. He  commanded  fine  merchantmen,  and 
came  to  own  them;  he  invested  wisely  and 
amassed  a  large  fortune.  But  he  never 
changed  his  habits  or  his  mode  of  life ;  he  was 
greatly  attached  to  the  sea,  and  his  compan- 
ions and  friends  were  men  who  in  some  way 
were  connected  with  the  sea.  He  married  a 
lady  of  excellent  family,  a  Miss  Moulton,  of 
New  Haven,  who  was  a  passenger  on  a  ship 
which  he  commanded  on  a  voyage  to  the  Medi- 
terranean. After  the  marriage  his  wife  sailed 
with  him  on  nearly  all  his  voyages,  and  when 
she  died  old  Captain  Brower  declared  that  as 
soon  as  Florence  was  old  enough  she  was  to 
sail  with  him  on  every  voyage  he  made,  and 
when  she  got  married  she  was  to  marry  a  sea 
captain. 

"  When  the  old  man  died  he  left  a  will, 
made  not  long  before  his  death,  which  con- 
tained some  peculiar  provisions  relating  to  the 
manner  in  which  his  daughter  should  inherit 


A  SAILOR'S  KNOT  285 

his  property,  and  it  is  due  to  you  that  you 
should  be  made  acquainted  with  these  provi- 
sions. The  most  important  clause  is  that 
which  declares  that  the  testator's  entire  for- 
tune is  devised  to  his  daughter,  Florence,  on 
condition  that  she  shall  marry  a  sea-captain." 

At  this  I  started.  "  Marry  a  sea-captain !  " 
I  exclaimed. 

"  I  beg  that  you  will  not  interrupt  me,  sir," 
said  Mr.  Lloyd.  "  Let  me  put  the  case  plainly 
before  you,  and  then  you  will  know  better 
what  to  say.  I  will  not  go  into  the  details  of 
the  will,  but  its  import  is  simply  this :  So  long 
as  Florence  Brewer  remains  unmarried  the 
property  left  by  her  father  is  to  remain  in 
the  hands  of  trustees,  and  the  interest  and 
gains  accruing  from  its  investment  shall  be 
paid  to  her.  When,  according  to  the  desire  of 
her  father,  she  shall  unite  herself  in  marriage 
to  a  sea-captain,  then  the  whole  fortune  shall 
be  made  over  to  her.  But  if  she  shall  marry, 
and  not  marry  a  sea-captain,  then  her  interest 
in  said  fortune  shall  immediately  cease  and 
determine,  and  the  whole  of  the  estate  shall 
be  appropriated  in  a  manner  which  is  after- 
ward set  forth,  and  which  is  mainly  for  chari- 
table objects  connected  with  mariners  and  their 


286  A  SAILOR'S  KNOT 

families.  This  same  disposition  is  arranged 
for  if  she  dies  a  single  woman." 

I  could  not  repress  an  expression  of  surprise 
and  anger. 

"  Excuse  me,  sir,"  said  Mr.  Lloyd,  "  but  I 
beg  you  will  give  me  your  attention  a  little 
longer.  I  have  set  before  you  the  conditions 
of  the  will  of  Gideon  Brower,  and  I  now  wish 
to  set  before  you  your  own  position  in  this  case. 
You  have  engaged  yourself  in  marriage  to 
Florence  Brower.  You  are  not  a  sea-captain. 
It  is  impossible  that,  by  any  pretense,  or  even 
the  honest  adoption  of  a  seafaring  profession, 
you  can  entitle  yourself  to  be  considered  a 
sea-captain  in  the  sense  in  which  such  a  per- 
son is  referred  to  in  the  will.  The  old  man 
was  very  wary,  and  a  whole  clause  is  devoted 
to  the  purpose  of  making  it  impossible  for  any- 
one, who  is  not  really  and  truly  in  the  strictest 
sense  of  the  word  a  sea-captain  by  profession, 
to  marry  Miss  Brower,  and  enable  her  to  in- 
herit the  fortune  of  her  father.  So  you  see 
that  Captain  Brower  tied  a  good,  strong  sail- 
or's knot  around  his  daughter's  future. 

"  Now,  sir,"  he  continued,  "  should  you 
marry  her  the  consequences  are  immediate. 
She  inherits  nothing  of  her  father's  estate,  and, 


A  SAILOR'S  KNOT  287 

more  than  that,  she  loses  all  interest  in  it ;  and 
the  income,  which  she  now  receives,  will  cease. 
May  I  ask  you,  Mr.  Kadnor,  if  you  have  a 
private  fortune  which  will  compensate  Miss 
Brower  for  the  absolute  loss  of  her  father's 
estate?  I  do  not  ask  you,  you  will  observe,  if 
you  are  engaged  in  a  business  which  is  likely 
to  yield  you  an  income  which  will  make  up 
for  her  loss,  for  I  possess  full  information 
upon  that  point."  It  seemed  to  me  as  if  my 
crushed  condition  did  not  admit  of  words,  and 
yet  this  last  remark  stung  me  into  speech. 

"What  do  you  mean?"  I  asked.  "My 
business? " 

"  In  this  case,  as  the  legal  representative  of 
Miss  Brower,  I  have  made  your  business  mine. 
I  know  that  you  are  the  junior  partner  in  the 
linen  importing  house  of  Woodruff  &  Radnor. 
This  morning,  before  I  took  the  train,  I  went 
to  the  Mercantile  Register  Office  and  investi- 
gated the  commercial  rating  of  your  firm.  I 
find  that  the  credit  of  the  house  is  very  low. 
In  fact,  you  have  a  very  poor  commercial 
standing  in  business  circles.  You  need  not  get 
angry,  sir.  In  cases  like  this  we  deal  only 
with  facts  and  there  is  no  need  of  our  forming 
opinions;  so,  unless  you  have  a  private  for- 


288  A  SAILOR'S  KNOT 

tune,  or  expect  one,  you  are  now  asking  Miss 
Brower  to  give  up  a  present  competence  and  a 
future  fortune,  and  you  have  nothing  to  give 
her  in  return.  ]S[ow,  sir,  I  have  put  the  case 
before  you,  and  you  can  decide  for  yourself 
whether  or  not  you  are  going  to  insist  upon  the 
disastrous  engagement  you  have  ignorantly 
made." 

There  was  absolutely  no  answer  I  could 
make  to  the  man,  and  I  felt,  too,  that  when 
I  should  become  able  to  answer  it  would  not 
be  to  him. 

"  Tell  me  this,"  I  said,  in  a  choking  voice : 
"  What  has  Miss  Brower's  aunt  to  do  with  this 
matter?  How  does  it  concern  her?  And  why 
should  she  send  for  you?  " 

"  I  will  tell  you,"  he  said.  "  Miss  Moul- 
ton  is  a  lady  without  property.  Since  the 
death  of  Captain  Brower  she  and  her  niece 
have  lived  together,  and  she  has  shared  the 
benefits  of  the  very  handsome  income  derived 
from  the  estate.  In  fact,  she  acts  as  head  of 
the  little  family  and  assumes  its  responsibili- 
ties. When  her  niece  marries  anyone,  other 
than  a  sea-captain,  she  will  be  entirely  without 
support,  unless,  indeed,  that  support  shall  be 
assumed  by  the  person  who  marries  her  niece. 


A  SAILOR'S  KNOT  289 

Naturally  enough,  sir,  she  is  deeply  concerned 
in  the  matrimonial  actions  of  Miss  Brower." 

My  head  swam;  my  blood  boiled.  I  rose 
and  pushed  back  my  chair. 

"  I  do  not  want  to  talk  about  this  now,"  said 
I,  "  and  I  do  not  say  that  I  believe  a  word 
of  it;  but  one  thing  I  will  say — if  what  you 
tell  me  is  true,  it  is  the  most  abominable 
piece  of  business  I  have  ever  heard  of.  It  is 
unnatural,  vile,  incredible."  And  with  that 
I  strode  out  of  the  room  and  into  the  open  air. 
In  what  state  of  mind  I  left  the  prying,  brutal 
lawyer  I  did  not  know  or  care.  My  first  im- 
pulse was  to  rush  to  Florence,  but  I  changed 
my  purpose.  I  was  not  in  a  fit  state  of  mind 
to  meet  her.  I  walked  with  rapid  strides  on 
the  beach,  but  in  an  opposite  direction  to  that 
which  Florence  and  I  had  taken  the  day  be- 
fore. 

I  knew  now  why  she  had  started  when  she 
had  met  Captain  Lopper.  The  dear  girl  had 
so  loved  me,  when  she  pledged  herself  to  me 
to  be  mine  forever  and  ever,  that  she  had  not 
thought  of  the  wicked  conditions  of  her.  fa- 
ther's will,  and  they  had  not  come  to  her  mind 
until  we  encountered  that  old  sea-captain. 
Then  suddenly  she  remembered,  and  of  course 
it  affected  her. 


290  A  SAILOR'S  KNOT 

Now,  too,  I  understood  all  about  her  aunt. 
Poor  Florence!  What  a  time  she  must  have 
had  with  that  sordid  woman! 

In  the  evening  I  repaired  to  the  cottage. 
I  had  not  made  up  my  mind  what  I  was  going 
to  say,  but  there  seemed  to  be  no  reason  for 
doubt  as  to  what  I  ought  to  say.  However, 
love  is  above  everything,  and  I  would  come  to 
no  conclusion  until  I  had  seen  Florence. 

I  met  her  on  the  piazza. 

"  You  know  everything  that  has  hap- 
pened !  "  I  exclaimed.  "  Tell  me  what  you 
think  about  it." 

"  Don't  be  excited,"  she  said.  "  Let  us  sit 
down  and  talk.  I  do  not  think  there  is  much 
to  consider.  We  have  engaged  ourselves  to 
each  other,  and  that  is  the  main  point;  every- 
thing else  is  secondary.  For  myself,  I  will 
merely  say  that  under  no  circumstances  would 
I  refuse  to  engage  myself  to  a  man  for  the  rea- 
son that  I  might  lose  money.  I  made  up  my 
mind  about  this,  long  ago.  In  fact,  I  had 
ceased  to  consider  the  matter  altogether. 
Kow,  then,  sir,"  she  said,  with  a  smile,  "  what 
do  you  think  about  it?  " 

I  could  not  answer.  I  felt  as  if  I  could  tear 
the  hair  from  my  head ;  again  was  this  terrible 
responsibility  of  deciding  cast  upon  me. 


A  SAILOR'S  KNOT  291 

During  iny  hesitation  I  saw  a  quick  shade 
pass  over  Florence's  face;  it  was  gone  in  an 
instant. 

"  No,"  I  exclaimed,  "  you  need  not  think 
that!" 

"  I  do  not  think  it,"  she  said  quickly.  "  A 
devil  thrust  the  idea  into  my  mind,  but  I 
would  not  let  it  stay.  I  know  as  well  as  I 
know  anything  that  I  am  the  same  to  you, 
whether  I  have  money  or  not." 

Now  I  rose  and  stepped  toward  her,  with 
arms  outstretched.  I  had  not  determined  to 
accept  her  sacrifice;  I  had  determined  upon 
nothing ;  but  love  is  stronger  than  all  besides. 
I  stopped  suddenly;  there  was  a  sound  of 
footsteps  in  the  hall  and  someone  was  about  to 
enter  the  parlor. 

But  Florence  was  very  quick  of  action.  She 
stepped  closer  to  me  and  said  in  a  voice  low, 
but  perfectly  clear  and  distinct,  "  It  is  settled ; 
we  are  to  marry." 

All  that  night,  in  my  waking  hours  and  in 
my  dreams,  the  angels  sang  to  me  a  song  of 
heaven,  the  words  of  which  were  these :  "  We 
are  to  marry."  And  all  night  long,  sleeping  or 
waking,  I  heard  the  devils  sing  another  song, 
the  words  being :  "  You  rob  her  of  her  for- 


292  A  SAILOR'S  KNOT 

tune."  I  awoke  the  happiest  man  in  the 
world,  and  the  most  distressed  one. 

I  knew  now  what  I  had  not  appreciated  be- 
fore— that  Florence  was  a  rich  woman.  In 
town  she  and  her  aunt  lived  in  a  handsome 
house ;  they  had  horses,  carriages,  opera-boxes 
— all  that  rich  people  have.  When  I  had 
thought  of  these  things  at  all,  I  had  supposed 
that  Miss  Moulton  was  wealthy;  now  I  knew 
that  she  had  nothing,  Florence  everything. 

As  never  before  had  I  appreciated  Flor- 
ence's wealth,  so  never  before  had  I  appreci- 
ated my  comparative  poverty.  I  was  young 
and  enthusiastic,  and  had  high  hopes  of  a  suc- 
cessful mercantile  career.  But  when  I  came 
to  look  at  my  prospects  in  the  cold  hard  light 
which  Mr.  Lloyd  had  thrown  upon  them,  I  saw 
'that  it  would  be  a  long  time,  if  that  time  ever 
came,  before  I  could  offer  Florence  even  a 
small  proportion  of  what  I  would  take  from 
her  if  I  married  her. 

Business  had  not  been  good  of  late,  and  my 
partner,  Woodruff,  who  was  the  capitalist,  in 
a  very  small  way,  of  the  concern,  had  become 
despondent.  I  was  indeed  a  poor  young  man, 
and  I  had  had  no  right  to  ask  a  girl  like  Flor- 
ence to  marry  me.  But  love  is  above  every- 


A  SAILOR'S  KNOT  293 

thing,  and  love  had  met  love,  and  Florence  had 
said  we  were  to  marry!  These  words,  for  the 
time,  swept  doubt  and  conscience  to  the  right 
and  left,  but  doubt  and  conscience  never  failed 
to  come  rolling  back. 

I  spent  that  morning  with  Florence,  much 
to  the  discomfiture  of  Miss  Moulton,  who  sup- 
posed that  we  would  have  settled  everything 
on  the  evening  before,  and  that  I  would  have 
gone  away  by  an  early  train.  Florence  was  a 
brave  girl  that  day.  She  saw  how  happy  I 
was  and  how  miserable  I  was,  and  she  tried 
hard,  in  every  gentle  and  sensible  way,  to 
bring  me  into  her  frame  of  mind;  but  this 
was  a  difficult  piece  of  work.  I  was  not  sure 
she  was  capable  of  understanding  the  position 
in  life  which  I  could  offer  her,  and  if  I  di- 
lated too  much  upon  this  point,  I  feared  that 
again  the  suspicion  might  come  into  her  mind 
that  I  did  not  want  her  without  her  money. 

Before  I  left  the  cottage  she  proposed  that 
we  should  take  a  sail  in  the  afternoon.  We 
would  get  Captain  Asa  to  take  us  out  in  his 
boat,  and  the  fresh  air  would  clear  our  brains. 
Of  course  I  agreed,  but  I  said  to  myself  that 
the  longer  I  stayed  here  the  harder  it  would  be 
for  me  to  decide;  after  all,  perhaps  the  best 


A  SAILOR'S  KNOT 

thing  I  could  do  might  be  to  go  away  and  write 
to  her. 

There  was  a  good  wind  and  Captain  Asa's 
boat  soon  left  the  village  far  behind  her.  We 
were  on  a  long  tack,  Florence  and  I  sitting 
together  on  the  windward  side,  the  captain  at 
the  tiller.  For  some  time  he  had  been  looking 
at  us  with  a  certain  whimsical  but  benignant 
expression,  and  now  he  spoke. 

"  You  two  young  people  seem  to  have  run 
into  a  streak  o'  bad  weather,  eh?  Kind  o' 
rough  and  lookin'  like  as  if  there  was  goin'  to 
be  a  heavy  blow.  Isn't  that  about  it?  " 

We  both  gazed  at  the  old  man  in  astonish- 
ment. 

"  What  do  you  mean?  "  I  exclaimed. 

"  Well,  there  ain't  no  use  o'  makin'  no  bones 
about  it,"  said  he.  "  I  know  what's  the  mat- 
ter with  you.  I  knowed  it  day  before  yester- 
day mornin'  when  I  met  you  walkin'  along 
the  beach.  I  said  to  myself,  i  There  now, 
it's  come  at  last.  She's  goin'  to  be  married, 
and  it  ain't  to  a  sea-captain.'  ISTow  don't  jump 
like  that;  you  might  go  overboard  before  you 
know  it.  I  know  all  about  your  father's  will, 
miss.  I  knowed  the  old  captain  very  well.  I 
never  sailed  with  him,  but  I  met  him  on  shore 


A  SAILOR'S  KNOT  295 

lots  o'  times;  and  I've  heard  about  the  queer 
will  he  made." 

"  Does  everybody  in  this  place  know  about 
my  father's  will? "  asked  Florence,  indig- 
nantly. 

"  Some  does,"  replied  Captain  Asa,  "  but 
the  most  of  'em  doesn't.  I  heard  about  it  a 
long  time  ago,  but  I  never  thought  of  it  agin 
till  the  other  day.  I  knowed  what  had  hap- 
pened when  I  saw  you  two  walkin'  together, 
and  I  wasn't  a  bit  surprised  when  that  lawyer 
got  here,,  nor  when  I  saw  your  doleful  face, 
sir,  after  seein'  him,  when  you  was  a-walkin' 
on  the  beach,  goin'  along  at  about  six  knots 
an  hour.  Well,  I've  had  you  two  on  my  mind 
ever  since,  and  I'm  glad  to  have  a  chance  o' 
tellin'  you  what  my  thinkin'  comes  to.  Would 
you  like  to  hear?  " 

Florence  and  I  looked  at  each  other.  These 
astonishing  remarks  of  the  old  captain  had  a 
very  strong  flavor  of  impertinence,  but  it  was 
such  a  good-natured  impertinence  that  I  did 
not  know  whether  or  not  I  was  called  upon  to 
resent  it.  Florence  appeared  amused  and  curi- 
ous. 

"  What  in  the  world  can  you  have  been 
thinking  about  us,  Captain  Asa? "  said  she. 
"  Of  course  we  would  like  to  hear." 


296  A  SAILOR'S  KNOT 

"  Well,  then,"  said  the  captain,  "  I'll  let 
you  have  it  in  as  short  order  as  I  know  how. 
Here  you  are,  miss,  with  a  fortune,  which 
I've  heard  is  a  mighty  big  one,  waitin'  to 
jump  into  your  lap  the  minute  you  marry  a 
man  that's  a  sea-captain,  and,  more  than  that, 
all  ready  to  scud  out  o'  sight  the  minute  you 
marry  anybody  that  ain't  a  sea-captain.  Well, 
you  made  up  your  mind  to  marry  a  man  that 
ain't  a  sea-captain,  and  while  I  don't  want  to 
say  nothin'  to  hurt  nobody's  feelin's,  I'm 
bound  to  say  that  I  don't  believe,  judgin'  by 
the  looks  of  that  young  man's  face  when  he 
was  marchin'  along  the  beach  yesterday,  that 
he's  got  a  fortune  to  give  you  in  place  of  the 
one  that's  ready  to  scud  away.  So  you've  got 
to  give  up  either  the  man  you  want  to  marry 
or  the  money  you  ought  to  have,  and  it  ain't 
an  easy  thing  to  make  a  choice  like  that." 

Florence  flushed. 

"  You  are  very  much  mistaken,  Captain 
Asa,"  she  said.  "  It  is  not  at  all  difficult  to 
make  such  a  choice,  and  I  have  made  it." 

"  Oh,  that's  all  very  well  for  you,  miss," 
said  the  captain.  "  You're  givin'  up  what's 
yours,  but  it's  different  with  him.  He's  mak- 
in'  you  give  up  what's  yours;  and  that  must 


A  SAILOR'S  KNOT  297 

come  dreadfully  tough  on  a  man  who's  any 
kind  of  a  man.  Now  don't  get  mad,  either  of 
you.  Just  let  me  tell  you  how  you  can  get  out 
of  the  whole  trouble  without  losin'  any  of  the 
money  and  neither  of  you  givin'  up  the  other 
one.  This  is  the  way  to  do  it:  You,  Miss 
Brower,  you  marry  me." 

At  this  I  sprang  to  my  feet. 

"  Look  out,  young  man!  "  shouted  the  cap- 
tain. "  The  next  thing  you'll  be  overboard, 
and  that'll  settle  matters  the  wrong  way." 

"  Sit  down,  Arthur!  "  cried  Florence,  "  and 
don't  interrupt  him.  This  is  the  funniest  thing 
I  ever  heard." 

"  Well,"  said  the  captain,  "  this  is  the  way 
I'd  do  it:  Some  fine  mornin',  whenever  you 
two  are  ready,  I'll  take  you  in  this  boat  and  I'll 
sail  you  over  to  Clamborough.  Parson  Mil- 
lick  lives  over  there,  and  he  and  I  're  good 
friends.  He's  married  me  twice  a'ready  and 
he'll  do  it  again.  Then,  miss,  we'll  come 
back  here  and  you  will  have  your  marriage  cer- 
tificate in  your  pocket.  Then  you  and  your 
aunt  can  start  for  New  York,  and  your  fath- 
er's money  will  be  yours — every  cent  of  it. 
That'll  be  all  fixed  and  settled.  Now,  as  for 
me,  it  ain't  in  the  course  o'  nature  that  I  can 


298  A  SAILOR'S  KNOT 

last  very  much  longer.  I'm  in  my  seventy- 
eighth  year  now,  though,  perhaps,  I  don't  look 
it,  and  there  ain't  none  of  my  family  that's 
ever  reached  eighty,  so  it  ain't  nat'ral  to  ex- 
pect that  I'll  be  in  the  way  very  long;  and 
all  I  want  out  o'  this  business  is  just  two  dol- 
lars a  day  as  long  as  I'm  survivin'.  I  did 
think  o'  puttin'  it  at  two  and  a  half,  but  two 
dollars  is  enough.  Then  when  I'm  out  o'  the 
way — and  I'll  put  it  in  my  will  that  you  ain't 
to  wear  no  black — all  you've  got  to  do,  sir,  ia 
to  wait  a  decent  time  and  then  step  up  and 
marry  the  widder." 

At  these  remarkable  words  Florence  looked 
at  me  and  then  at  the  captain  and  burst  into 
uncontrollable  laughter.  I  stared  at  her  in 
amazement.  What  in  the  world  there  was  to 
laugh  at  I  could  not  imagine.  My  mind  was 
filled  with  horror.  To  imagine  Florence  as  a 
widow  was  to  think  of  myself  as  a  defunct  con- 
sort. I  was  angry;  I  felt  as  if  I  would  like 
to  get  up  and  throw  the  old  man  out  of  his  boat, 
and  yet  there  was  something  in  his  proposition 
which  raised  in  my  soul  a  feeling  which  was 
certainly  not  resentment,  but  which  I  would 
be  ashamed  to  call  hope,  the  result  being  that 
my  mind  was  in  a  turmoil  such  as  it  had  never 
known  before. 


A  SAILOR'S  KNOT  299 

"  You  are  both  young,"  said  the  captain, 
"  and  I  expected  you'd  both  bile  over,  but 
whether  you  bile  out  o'  the  spout  or  rattle  the 
lid,  it  don't  make  no  diff'rence.  And  when 
you  come  to  think  serious  about  what  I've 
said,  I  know  you'll  cool  down.  You  can 
laugh  as  much  as  you  please,  miss,  but  you 
know  as  well  as  I  can  tell  you  that  here  am  I 
a-holdin'  out  to  you  the  whole  o'  your  father's 
fortune,  and  all  you've  got  to  do  is  to  hold 
out  your  hand  and  take  it,  and  pay  me  two 
dollars  a  day  for  nobody  knows  how  short  a 
time." 

At  this  Florence  laughed  again. 

"  Captain,"  she  cried,  "  I  believe  you'll  live 
a  dozen  years !  " 

At  this  the  old  man  almost  lost  his  temper. 
"  I  don't  want  to  be  disrespectful,  miss,  but 
that's  stuff.  It  ain't  in  natur'  that  I  can  do  it, 
and,  as  to  the  gentleman,  I  put  it  to  his  own 
good-sense  if  he  wouldn't  rather  wait  a  little 
bit  so  that  you  can  have  the  money  that's 
rightly  your  own  than  to  take  you  now  and 
strip  you  o'  every  copper.  I've  had  my  say, 
and  I  don't  want  to  hurry  you  about  your  an- 
swer. You  two  are  caught  in  a  heavy  blow 
and  I've  offered  you  a  port  of  refuge.  Now 


300  A  SAILOR'S  KNOT 

you  can  make  up  your  minds  whether  you'll 
run  in  or  not." 

On  the  homeward  trip  I  found  myself  in  a 
very  embarrassing  position.  I  felt  as  if  I 
could  blaze  and  burst  like  a  package  of  fire- 
crackers, but  I  also  felt  that  I  had  no  right 
to  decide  anything.  It  was  not  for  me  to  say 
whether  or  not  Florence  should  accept  the 
fortune  which  was  offered  to  her  in  this  way. 

"  Captain  Asa,"  she  exclaimed,  "  you  must 
not  ask  for  an  answer  to  your  amazing  propo- 
sition. An  answer  would  put  an  end  to  it,  and 
it  ought  to  live  forever." 

"  That's  not  serious,"  said  the  captain,  "  and 
it  don't  mean  nothin'.  All  I  ask  you  is  to 
think  it  over,  and  take  it  cool.  Even  if  I  did 
live  to  be  eighty  you  two  would  only  have  to 
wait  two  years,  and  that's  not  as  long  as  I 
waited  the  fust  time  I  was  married;  and  as  to 
two  dollars  a  day  for  two  years,  that's  not 
much  when  circumstances  are  considered." 

Florence  and  I  did  not  say  much  to  each 
other  as  we  walked  from  the  landing-place  to 
the  cottage.  She  was  pale,  and  I  could  see 
by  her  nervous  step  that  she  was  excited.  Be- 
fore we  reached  the  house  she  stopped. 

"  I    am    beginning    to    hate   my    father's 


A  SAILOR'S  KNOT  301 

money,"  she  said.  "  I  believe  it  is  a  curse 
upon  rne."  Then  suddenly  she  looked  me  full 
in  the  face.  "  I  wish  you  hated  it  as  I  do/' 
she  said. 

This  was  a  sharp  thrust,  and  it  hurt  me.  In 
my  soul  I  knew  I  was  not  angry  enough  at  the 
old  sailor  for  the  proposition  he  had  made.  I 
knew  that,  in  spite  of  myself,  I  did  not  utterly 
repel  his  astounding  proposition.  I  knew  that 
the  desire  not  to  deprive  Florence  of  her  for- 
tune was  ready  to  rise  above  everything  when- 
ever the  chance  was  given  it. 

"  Don't  look  like  that,"  she  said,  speaking 
more  gently.  "  I  know  you  are  only  a  man, 
and  that  your  every  thought  in  this  world  is 
for  me.  Let  us  forget  that  old  captain;  let 
us  forget  everything  in  this  world  but  each 
other.  If  we  can  do  that,  I  think  we  may  be 
very  happy." 

It  was  necessary  for  me  to  return  to  New 
York  the  next  day,  and  I  was  glad  that  it  was 
necessary.  To  decide  the  great  question  of 
my  life  was  almost  impossible.  I  knew  that 
if  I  said  the  word,  Florence  was  ready  to  marry 
me  regardless  of  all  consequences.  But  for 
me  to  accept  this  sacrifice  was  an  entirely  dif- 
ferent thing. 


302  A  SAILOR'S  KNOT 

In  less  than  a  week  after  my  arrival  in  New 
York  the  question  was  decided  for  me.  The 
firm  of  Woodruff  &  Radnor  failed  most  disas- 
trously. The  senior  partner  was  a  rash  and 
hopeful  man;  the  junior  partner  was  in  love. 
The  wreck  had  been  complete;  everything 
was  gone ;  we  had  nothing  left  but  our  debts. 
I  had  a  little  income  which  came  to  me  from 
my  family — barely  enough  to  support  me  in 
the  simplest  way  of  living.  To  ask  Florence 
to  give  up  her  fortune  and  share  my  absolute 
poverty  was  simply  impossible.  I  wrote  to  her 
and  told  her  everything.  I  did  not  ask  her 
to  release  me  from  my  engagement;  I  simply 
withdrew  from  it.  I  knew  that  it  would  be 
kindness  to  her  if  I  did  that. 

She  did  not  write  to  me.  What  could  she 
have  said  had  she  written  ?  We  simply  parted 
without  a  word  of  regret,  or  a  word  of  love. 
My  letter  to  her  was  no  more  than  a  mere 
business  note. 

I  went  into  the  country  to  visit  my  family, 
and  while  there  I  received  a  letter  from  Miss 
Moulton.  This  surprised  me  very  much. 
What  could  she  have  to  say  to  me?  It  was 
now  nearly  two  months  since  I  had  parted 
with  Florence,  and  in  all  that  time  I  had  not 


A  SAILOR'S  KNOT  303 

heard  from  her.  Miss  Moulton's  letter  was  a 
long  one,  and  portions  of  it  were  written  so 
well,  and  her  statements  were  so  clear  and  so 
plainly  expressed,  that  I  felt  sure  that  much  of 
the  matter  had  been  dictated,  or  at  least  sug- 
gested, by  someone  other  than  the  writer. 

The  contents  of  the  letter  may  be  stated 
briefly:  Miss  Moulton  informed  me  that  be- 
fore she  and  her  niece  returned  to  New  York 
they  had  received  news  that  things  were  go- 
ing badly  with  the  Brower  property.  Some  of 
their  legal  friends  had  had  their  suspicions 
aroused  by  some  very  remarkable  investments 
made  by  Mr.  Lloyd,  who  was  one  of  the  prin- 
cipal trustees  of  the  estate,  and  who  seemed  to 
have  taken  everything  into  his  own  hands, 
and  they  had  therefore  made  some  investiga- 
tions into  the  state  of  affairs.  The  result 
showed  them  clearly  that  Mr.  Lloyd  was  acting 
very  injudiciously  and  rashly,  and,  although 
there  was  no  proof  of  any  actual  dishonesty, 
there  was  every  reason  to  fear  that  if  he  was 
allowed  to  keep  on  in  his  present  speculative 
career,  the  Brower  estate  was  in  great  danger. 

After  this  there  followed  several  pages  of 
very  careful  writing,  in  which  Miss  Moulton 
endeavored  to  say  what  she  had  to  say  in  the 


304:  A  SAILOR'S  KNOT 

most  delicate  and  sympathetic  manner.  But 
the  sum  of  it  was  this:  Florence  had  deter- 
mined to  accept  the  helping  hand  which  Cap- 
tain Asa  had  held  out  to  her.  It  was  necessary 
to  do  something  promptly  and  immediately  in 
order  to  save  her  estate,  which,  as  Miss  Moul- 
ton  put  it,  was  now  all  that  was  left  to  her. 
The  only  thing  which  could  be  done  promptly 
and  immediately  was  to  marry  Captain  Asa  on 
the  terms  which  he  had  proposed. 

This  had  been  done.  They  had  not  called 
in  the  services  of  the  captain's  old  friend, 
Parson  Millick,  but  they  had  been  married 
by  the  rector  of  the  village  church.  Flor- 
ence had  wished  to  do  nothing  in  an  under- 
hand way.  She  wished  that  all  who  cared 
to  know  should  know  everything  she  had  done, 
how  she  had  done  it  and  why  she  had  done 
it.  After  the  simple  ceremony  Miss  Moulton 
and  her  niece  had  repaired  to  New  York  and 
the  captain  had  gone  home  to  his  cottage. 

Florence  had  made  immediate  claim  for 
her  property  and  was  now  in  full  possession 
of  what  was  left  of  her  father's  estate.  The 
value  of  the  property  had  been  much  impaired, 
but  a  handsome  fortune  remained. 

"  There  is  one  thing/'  Miss  Moulton  wrote 


A  SAILOR'S  KNOT  305 

in  conclusion,  "  which  Florence  has  said  to 
me  several  times,  and  which  I  do  not  think  I 
am  violating  any  confidence  in  mentioning. 
She  asserts  that  the  marriage  she  has  made 
is  an  honorable  and  straightforward  one,  with 
no  afterthoughts.  One  or  two  of  her  friends 
have  suggested  that  it  would  be  possible,  after 
a  time,  to  terminate  the  connection  by  means 
of  a  divorce,  which  would  be  easy  enough 
should  both  parties  agree.  But  to  this  she  de- 
clares she  will  never  consent.  Her  respect  for 
herself  would  not  permit  her  to  think  of  it." 
The  letter  ended  thus :  "  I  have  written  this 
at  the  request  of  Mrs.  Lopper,  who  thinks  that 
you  should  know  everything  that  has  hap- 
pened, and  that  she  would  rather  you  should 
hear  it  from  me  than  from  anyone  who  might 
be  apt  to  state  it  incorrectly." 

Mrs.  Lopper!  This  was  too  much.  I  laid 
my  head  upon  the  table  before  me  and  shut 
my  eyes.  But  the  world  was  no  blacker  to 
me  with  my  eyes  shut  than  when  they  were 
open. 

For  the  greater  part  of  the  winter  I  lived 
an  aimless  sort  of  life,  and  yet  not  altogether 
aimless,  for  the  great  desire  which  now  pos- 
sessed me  was  to  avoid  a  meeting  with  Flor- 


306  A  SAILOR'S  KNOT 

ence.  I  knew  very  well  that  if  I  should  meet 
her  I  would  find  her  the  same  sensible,  straight- 
forward, noble  woman  that  I  had  always 
found  her,  and  that  she  would  do  everything 
to  set  me  at  my  ease  and  to  establish  between 
us  those  relations  which  should  exist  between 
two  persons  situated  as  we  were. 

But  I  also  knew  very  well  that,  so  far  as 
my  feelings  toward  Florence  were  concerned, 
there  was  nothing  noble,  straightforward,  or 
sensible  about  them.  I  thought  that  I  could 
not  meet  her — I  could  not  look  at  her.  To 
take  her  by  the  hand  and  call  her  Mrs.  Lop- 
per — I  would  rather  cut  off  my  hand. 

As  the  spring  began  to  grow  into  summer  a 
strange  instinct  seemed  to  possess  me,  and 
that  was  a  desire  to  go  to  Captain  Asa.  When- 
ever I  thought  of  the  little  village  by  the  sea, 
of  his  cottage,  and  of  himself,  I  imagined  that 
I  saw  the  only  refuge  which  offered  itself  to 
me  on  the  face  of  the  earth.  No  matter  how 
far  I  might  go,  where  I  might  wander  or 
travel,  there  was  no  other  place  in  this  coun- 
try or  in  foreign  lands  where  I  might  not  meet 
with  Flor — no,  Mrs.  Lopper  and  her  aunt. 

So  down  to  the  village  by  the  sea  I  repaired 
with  my  baggage,  and  when  I  went  to  call 


A  SAILOR'S  KNOT  307 

upon  Captain  Asa  he  was  delighted.  I  don't 
know  why  he  should  have  been  glad  to  see  me, 
but  he  most  certainly  was  glad.  He  would  not 
allow  me  to  stay  at  the  little  tavern  where  I 
had  taken  a  room,  but  insisted,  on  my  coming 
to  his  house.  If  I  wanted  to  pay  him  board  I 
could  do  so.  He  would  make  no  change  in 
his  way  of  living  on  my  account,  therefore 
he  would  not  charge  me  much. 

I  found  Captain  Asa  in  fine  condition  men- 
tally and  physically.  He  did  not  hesitate  to 
acknowledge  that  his  regular  income  had  had 
a  most  beneficial  influence  upon  him.  He  did 
not  work  so  hard — in  fact,  he  did  not  work 
at  all  unless  he  felt  like  it.  He  lived  better 
— his  mind  was  always  at  ease. 

Had  I  been  asked  at  this  time  how  long 
the  good  captain  was  likely  to  live,  I  might 
have  said,  judging  from  his  general  appear- 
ance, that  there  was  no  reason  why  he  should 
not  survive  for  ten  years  or  more.  He  looked 
a  great  deal  more  hale  and  hearty  than  when 
I  first  knew  him. 

He  was  very  jolly,  and  his  enjoyment  of  my 
company  seemed  to  increase.  "  I  was  gettin' 
mighty  lonely  before  you  came,"  he  said, 
"  for  I'm  bound  to  admit  that  a  fellow  that 


308  A  SAILOR'S  KNOT 

hasn't  anything  that  he's  got  to  do  is  a  good 
deal  more  apt  to  get  lonely  than  if  he  had  some- 
thing to  do.  And  then,  again,  it  seems  the 
comicalest  thing  in  the  world  for  you  and  me 
to  be  living  here  together.  I'm  not  going  to 
go  into  particulars,  but  it  does  seem  comical." 

He  made  this  remark  a  good  many  times, 
and  he  never  made  it  without  finishing  off 
with  a  good  laugh.  I  saw  nothing  comical  in 
the  situation ;  in  fact,  there  was  nothing  in  the 
world  at  that  time  which  seemed  comical  to 
me,  or  very  interesting.  But  I  could  not  deny 
that  the  old  captain  seemed  to  be  some  sort  of 
a  connection  between  me  and  something  which 
had  been  all  the  world  to  me,  and  I  do  not 
doubt  that  the  captain  thought  I  was  some 
sort  of  a  connection  between  him  and  some- 
thing which  was  the  source  of  all  the  great 
comfort  and  satisfaction  which  now  pervaded 
his  life.  So,  although  it  might  appear  comical 
that  we  should  live  together,  it  was  natural 
enough  that  we  should  like  to  do  so. 

Meanwhile,  idleness  pressed  rather  heavily 
upon  me,  and  yet  I  had  no  ambition  for  any 
career  in  life  but  one.  It  had  struck  me  in 
my  melancholy  wanderings  and  cogitations 
that  if,  in  the  future,  circumstances  should  so 


A  SAILOR'S  KNOT  309 

arrange  themselves  that — Mrs.  Lopper  should 
be  free  again  to  marry,  it  was  more  than  prob- 
able that,  with  her  conscientious  feelings  and 
constant  desire  to  do  what  was  honorable  and 
right,  she  might  feel  that  she  could  not  carry 
out  her  father's  wishes  in  regard  to  her,  and 
especially  could  not  rightfully  enjoy  the  for- 
tune he  had  conditionally  left,  unless  she  not 
only  married  a  sea-captain  but  continued  to 
be  the  wife  of  a  sea-captain — that  is,  if  she 
should  choose  to  marry  again.  That  might  be 
a  very  finely  drawn  sentiment,  but  I  could  see 
that  there  would  be  ground  for  its  existence, 
especially  in  the  case  of  such  a  woman  as  the 
daughter  of  Captain  Brower. 

"Now,  when  Captain  Asa  asked  me  to  go 
out  sailing  with  him  I  always  consented,  and 
I  asked  a  good  many  questions  about  keels, 
rudders,  and  masts. 

"Oh,  ho!"  said  he  one  day,  "you're  be- 
ginnin'  to  catch  the  seafarin'  fever.  I  don't 
wonder  at  that.  A  man's  always  in  danger  of 
gettin'  it  if  he  associates  with  them  that's  had 
it." 

I  answered  that  I  did  begin  to  feel  an  inter- 
est in  nautical  matters  which  I  did  not  previ- 
ously know.  The  captain  looked  at  me  stead- 
ily for  some  moments ;  then  he  said : 


310  A  SAILOR'S  KNOT 

"  Now,  look  here,  young  man.  I  don't  think 
there's  a  better  thing  in  this  world  that  you 
can  do  than  to  learn  to  be  a  sailor.  From  what 
you  tell  me,  all  you  know  of  business  is  of  no 
earthly  use  now,  and  so  you've  got  to  learn 
somethin'  else.  And  if  you've  got  to  do  that, 
why  don't  you  take  to  navigation?  It  would 
be  a  good  thing  for  any  able-bodied  man  that 
hasn't  a  leanin'  in  another  direction,  and  it 
would  be  a  particularly  good  thing  for  you. 
Yes,  sir,"  he  repeated,  "  it  would  be  a  partic- 
ularly good  thing  for  you.  I  don't  want  to  go 
into  any  questions  about  how  long  it  would 
take  you  to  graduate,  and  that  sort  of  thing, 
but  I  do  say  that  I'm  mighty  glad  to  know 
that  you  take  an  interest  in  the  sea." 

After  that  Captain  Asa  lost  no  opportunity 
of  instructing  me  in  regard  to  all  sorts  of  nau- 
tical points,  even  going  so  far  as  to  endeavor 
to  instil  into  my  mind  the  use  of  the  sextant. 
But  I  am  afraid  he  found  me  a  very  dull 
scholar.  I  had  inclination  enough,  but  no  apti- 
tude. It  was  evident  that  Neptune  had  had 
nothing  to  do  with  the  stars  that  influenced 
my  nativity. 

The  fact  that  a  steady  and  regular  income 
now  rolled  in  upon  the  captain — in  very  small 


A  SAILOR'S  KNOT  311 

waves  to  be  sure,  but  in  surf  quite  heavy 
enougli  for  the  sort  of  beach  he  possessed — 
made  him  feel  that  he  could  indulge  himself 
in  little  extravagances.  He  had  a  sum  of 
money  hoarded  by,  but  until  now  he  had  never 
felt  that  he  could  draw  upon  it  for  luxuries. 
Now  he  did  feel  that  he  could  do  so,  and  he 
bought  a  better  sailboat  than  he  had  ever 
owned — making  a  very  good  bargain,  by  the 
way,  in  trading  off  his  old  one. 

One  day  when  we  were  sailing  on  the  bay, 
a  mile  or  two  from  shore,  a  very  heavy  wind 
sprang  up — it  may  have  been  half  a  gale,  or 
three-fourths  of  one,  or  perhaps  seven-eighths, 
for  all  I  know — but  it  blew  hard,  and  as  his 
new  boat  was  furnished  with  a  jib,  to  which 
sail  Captain  Asa  had  not  lately  been  accus- 
tomed, he  thought  it  would  be  wise  to  take 
it  in. 

I  offered  to  go1  forward  and  lower  the  jib, 
but  this  he  would  not  allow  me  to  do. 

"  You  will  fall  overboard  if  you  try  that, 
my  boy,"  said  he ;  "  just  you  take  hold  of  this 
tiller  and  keep  it  exactly  as  it  is,  and  I  will  go 
for'ard." 

The  captain  scrambled  to  the  bow,  as  active 
as  a  boy,  and  as  I  looked  at  him  I  could  not 


312  A  SAILOR'S  KNOT 

prevent  a  little  feeling  of  despondency.  My 
conscience  was  always  ready  to  resist  any  such 
feeling  as  this,  but  sometimes  it  was  taken  un- 
awares. 

As  Captain  Asa  crouched  by  the  mast, 
lowering  the  jib,  the  wind  gave  a  sudden  leap 
against  the  sail — though  this  may  not  be 
a  nautical  expression — and  the  shock  to  the 
boat  was  so  great  that  the  tiller  jerked  itself 
from  my  hand.  It  is  likely  that  I  did  not  com- 
prehend the  necessity  of  grasping  it  firmly 
at  such  a  time,  but,  at  any  rate,  it  was  gone 
from  my  hand  in  an  instant,  and  in  that  instant 
the  boat  swept  around  as  though  it  would  slide 
from  under  us. 

It  did  slide  from  under  the  captain.  Totally 
unprepared  for  such  a  motion,  he  slipped  and 
went  overboard.  As  I  gazed  with  open- 
mouthed  horror  upon  him  as  he  toppled  toward 
the  sea,  he  turned  his  head  in  my  direction  and 
gave  me  a  look  which  I  shall  never  forget  as 
long  as  I  live.  It  was  a  look  of  suspicion,  con- 
tempt, and  hatred.  It  told  me  as  plainly  as  if 
he  had  spoken  that  he  believed  I  had  pur- 
posely let  the  boat  fly  around.  He  knew  very 
well  that  it  would  be  everything  to  me  if  he 
should  fall  into  the  sea  and  be  drowned. 


A  SAILOR'S  KNOT  313 

He  did  fall  into  the  sea,  but  not  entirely. 
The  accident  was  a  much  more  terrible  one 
than  I  thought  it  was  going  to  be  when  I  first 
saw  him  totter  outward  from  the  deck.  He  fell 
into  the  water  with  a  great  splash,  but  one  foot 
was  caught  in  some  cordage,  and  so,  instead 
of  sinking  out  of  sight  and  rising  again  head 
uppermost,  which  would  have  given  him  a 
very  good  chance  for  his  life,  he  hung  in  the 
water  head  downward  and  unable  to  do  any- 
thing to  help  himself. 

Instantly  I  was  at  his  side ;  clutching  some- 
thing on  deck  with  one  hand  and  reaching  the 
other  toward  him,  I  seized  him  by  his  clothes 
and  endeavored  to  pull  him  upward.  But  this 
I  found  almost  impossible.  The  old  man  must 
have  weighed  nearly  two  hundred  pounds. 

Still,  I  must  pull  him  out  of  the  water.  If 
he  should  hang  thus  a  few  seconds  longer,  he 
would  be  drowned.  He  must  not  drown! 
Again  I  lifted — I  pulled — I  strained  every 
muscle,  every  sinew;  I  drew  myself  upward 
as  though  possessed  with  a  giant's  strength. 
My  eyes  were  starting  out  of  my  head;  my 
muscles  were  stretched  as  though  they  would 
crack.  But  the  captain's  head  came  out  of 
the  water;  one  of  his  arms  came  up,  and  with 


314  A  SAILOR'S  KNOT 

a  sudden  dash  he  caught  the  railing,  now  very 
near  him — the  weight  of  both  of  us  keeling 
the  boat  over  toward  him — and  then  with  a 
tremendous  heave  I  had  him  on  board.  I 
rolled  him  over  to  a  place  of  safety,  and  there, 
with  purple  face  and  glaring  eyes,  he  lay  in 
the  bottom  of  the  boat,  puffing  and  spitting 
salt  water  from  his  mouth.  He  had  held  his 
breath  and  had  not  lost  consciousness.  In  fact, 
he  had  been  in  the  water  but  a  very  little  time. 

The  boat  lay  with  its  head  to  the  wind, 
pitching  and  tossing,  and  the  mainsail  flapped 
and  fluttered  in  a  terrible  way.  But  as  I  did 
not  know  how  to  do  anything  to  help  matters, 
I  did  not  try.  In  a  few  moments,  however,  the 
captain  was  himself  again — at  least  enough 
himself  to  go  to  the  stern  and  take  the  tiller. 
And  then,  dripping  with  water,  he  put  the 
boat  about  and  headed  her  for  the  village. 

So  far  we  had  said  nothing.  Neither  of  us 
had  breath  enough  for  talking.  But  now 
Captain  Asa  turned  his  face  on  me  with  a 
very  different  expression  from  that  which  I 
had  seen  upon  it  as  he  went  overboard. 

"  Bless  my  soul,"  said  he,  "  I  thought  you 
would  split  yourself  apart  when  you  were 
pulling  me  in!  You  are  a  better  fellow  than 


A  SAILOR'S  KNOT  315 

I  took  you  for.  Fact  is,  there  ain't  many  men 
along  this  shore  could  've  done  it." 

I  felt  very  much  inclined  to  ask  him  if  he 
had  really  suspected  that  I  had  purposely 
caused  the  accident,  but  I  thought  it  would  be 
better  to  keep  quiet.  He  did  not  suspect  me 
now,  and  that  was  enough. 

Before  we  reached  the  shore  I  was  shivering 
with  cold,  for  the  upper  part  of  my  body  had 
been  well  drenched.  As  for  the  captain,  he 
declared  that  he  thought  he  was  going  to  have 
a  chill.  We  secured  the  boat  and  hurried 
home  as  fast  as  possible.  The  old  man  looked 
a  little  blue  in  the  face,  and  I  could  see  him 
shiver.  It  would  be  a  bad  thing  for  a  man 
at  his  age  to  be  taken  with  a  chill. 

I  paid  no  attention  to  my  own  wet  condi- 
tion, but  set  vigorously  to  work  to  take  care  of 
the  captain.  I  gave  him  a  good  rub-down  and 
put  him  to  bed.  Then,  at  his  request,  I  mixed 
him  a  dose  of  quinine  and  whiskey.  There  was 
a  medicine  chest  in  his  room,  and  I  weighed 
the  drug  in  a  little  pair  of  brass  scales. 

"  Make  it  sixteen  grains,"  said  the  captain, 
his  head  just  peering  above  the  blankets. 
"  That's  a  dose  for  a  whole  day,  but  I'll  take 
it  all  to  once." 


316  A  SAILOR'S  KNOT 

When  I  had  poured  the  whiskey  into  a 
tumbler  he  spoke  again: 

"  Who's  that  for?  "  said  he.  "  We  don't 
take  no  infant  doses  in  this  house.  Put  in 
about  as  much  again,  if  you  please.  Now  stir 
in  the  quinine  and  get  old  Jane  to  fill  it  up 
with  hot  water,  the  hottest  she's  got." 

When  I  brought  this  terrible  decoction  to 
Captain  Asa's  bedside  he  sat  up,  put  the  glass 
to  his  lips,  and  drained  its  contents  in  one 
draught. 

"  It's  the  only  way  to  take  that  sort  of  stuff," 
said  he.  "  If  you  stop  once  you'll  never  be- 
gin again."  And  then  he  lay  down  and  cov- 
ered himself  up. 

A  little  later  I  mixed  myself  a  dose  accord- 
ing to  the  captain's  prescription,  but  with  the 
proportions  very  much  smaller,  and  when  I 
had  swallowed  it  I  said  to  myself,  contorting 
my  face  dreadfully,  I  am  sure,  "  If  I  have 
poisoned  that  good  old  man  I  have  done  it  at 
his  own  request." 

Old  Jane,  the  woman  who  came  in  from 
a  neighboring  house  to  attend  to  Captain  Asa's 
domestic  affairs,  was  very  much  concerned. 
About  three  years  before,  she  told  me,  the 
captain  had  fallen  into  the  water  and  had  been 


A  SAILOR'S  KNOT  317 

very  sick  for  a  week  afterward,  and  had  to  have 
a  doctor. 

As  I  lay  in  bed  that  night,  unable  to  sleep 
on  account  of  the  taste  in  my  mouth,  distress- 
ing ideas  came  into  my  head.  I  could  not  help 
thinking  that  the  captain  was  three  years  older 
than  when  he  had  fallen  into  the  water  before, 
and  was  therefore  more  likely  to  be  affected 
by  the  drenching.  Then  I  began  to  ask  my- 
self if  it  were  possible  that  there  could  be 
anything  which  I  ought  to  have  done  and 
which  I  did  not  do — if,  in  any  way  other  than 
the  carelessness  which  made  me  let  the  tiller 
slip  from  my  hand,  I  could  blame  myself  for 
what  had  happened  and  for  what  might  hap- 
pen. 

I  came  down  a  little  late  next  morning,  and 
I  found  the  captain  on  hand,  as  lively  as  a 
cricket,  with  a  great  appetite  for  his  breakfast. 
My  spirits  rose  and  the  meal  was  a  very  pleas- 
ant one.  The  captain  seemed  delighted  to  see 
me  in  good  spirits.  He  talked  gayly  over  our 
morning  pipes,  and,  slapping  me  on  the  back, 
exclaimed,  "  You're  a  mighty  poor  sailor,  I'm 
bound  to  say  that,  but  you're  a  good  fellow  at 
a  steady  pull,"  and  with  that  he  gave  me  one 
of  those  glances  of  approval  which  had  been 
quite  frequent  during  breakfast. 


318  A  SAILOR'S  KNOT 

I  continued  to  go  out  with  the  captain,  fish- 
ing and  sailing,  but  my  nautical  education  was 
brought  to  a  close. 

"  I  don't  believe  it's  a  bit  of  use,"  said  he. 
"  It  ain't  in  you  and  it  can't  be  put  into  you. 
You  might  as  well  take  me  up  to  New  York 
to  teach  me  to  sell  linen  goods  and  ribbons. 
You  were  born  for  the  land,  and  I  was  born 
for  the  sea,  and  we'd  better  stick  to  what  suits 
us." 

If  the  old  fellow  had  known  how  earnestly 
and  how  often  I  had  longed  that  I  had  been 
born  for  the  sea,  he  would  not  have  made  that 
speech. 

I  knew  very  well  that  I  now  ought  to  go 
somewhere  and  try  to  do  something,  but  I 
made  no  effort  in  any  direction.  The  cap- 
tain wanted  me  to  stay  with  him  and  I  wanted 
to  stay.  If  I  went  into  the  busy  world  I  felt 
that  I  was  much  more  likely  to  meet  with  Flor- 
ence than  with  any  opportunity  of  making 
money.  I  believed  that  I  would  be  involun- 
tarily and  unwittingly  drawn  in  her  direction. 
I  could  not  even  consider  this  without  a  chill 
in  my  heart,  and  I  stayed  with  the  captain. 

I  never  saw  anyone  more  determined  to  en- 
joy life  than  was  Captain  Asa  Lopper  at  this 


A  SAILOR'S  KNOT  319 

time.  Never  before,  as  he  told  me  over  and 
over  again,  bad  his  conscience  allowed  him  to 
live  up  to  his  income. 

Now  he  was  careful  not  to  go  beyond  it, 
but  he  lived  up  to  it. 

Among  other  comforts  which  he  gathered 
about  him  was  a  cow.  The  captain  was  very 
fond  of  fresh  milk,  and  he  was  determined  to 
have  plenty  of  it.  Morning,  noon,  and  night, 
he  drank  milk  at  his  meals,  and  if  he  wanted 
more  of  the  refreshing  beverage  between 
meals  he  went  out  into  his  little  paddock  and 
milked  a  glassful.  If  a  friend  stopped  in  in 
the  daytime,  or  even  in  the  evening,  the  cap- 
tain was  glad  to  milk  him  a  tumblerful  of 
fresh  milk,  if  he  would  take  it.  On  being- 
told  that  this  sort  of  treatment  was  rather  bad 
for  a  cow,  the  old  man  replied,  "  It  may  be 
bad  for  her,  but  good  for  me.  I  bought  her 
for  my  good,  not  for  her'n." 

He  was  also  fond  of  what  he  called  "  gar- 
den stuff,"  and  when  his  cucumbers  were  big 
enough  to  pick  he  had  them  on  the  table  morn- 
ing, noon,  and  night.  I  frequently  remarked 
to  him  that  it  was  a  dangerous  thing  to  drink 
so  much  milk  and  eat  so  many  cucumbers  at 
the  same  time.  But  he  laughed  at  the  idea. 


320  A  SAILOR'S  KNOT 

"  I've  spent  the  biggest  part  of  my  life," 
said  he,  "  in  not  havin'  what  I  wanted,  and 
now  that  I've  got  the  chance  to  have  what  I 
want  I'm  goin'  to  have  it.  It's  my  opinion 
that  cow's  milk  and  cowcumbers  go  first-rate 
together." 

This  troubled  me  and  it  troubled  old  Jane. 
"  It'll  give  him  the  cholery,"  she  said,  "  and 
if  he  once  gets  took  with  that  it's  all  up  with 
him." 

The  next  morning  I  got  up  very  early,  and, 
going  into  the  garden,  I  picked  all  the  cucum- 
bers from  the  vines  and  gave  them  to  the  cow. 
She  consumed  them  with  rapidity  and  with 
evident  gratitude,  and  I  felt  delighted  to  see 
them  disappear.  I  had  begun  to  feel  that  it 
was  my  paramount  duty  to  take  care  of  Cap- 
tain Asa's  life.  If  anything,  in  any  manner 
connected  with  fatal  results,  should  happen  to 
him  while  I  lived  with  him,  what  would — 
what  would  people  say?  In  fact,  what  would 
I  think  if  any  sort  of  evil  which  I  could  avert 
should  come  to  this  old  man  who  stood  be- 
tween me  and  all  earthly  happiness? 

The  captain  said  nothing  about  the  loss  of 
his  cucumbers,  at  which  I  was  a  little  surprised. 
But  the  next  day  he  was  very  loud  in  praise 


A  SAILOR'S  KNOT  321 

of  the  quality  of  his  milk.  "  I  never  tasted 
anything  like  it,"  he  said ;  "  it's  better  than 
any  kind  of  drink  I  ever  did  drink.  It's  all 
nonsense  about  my  way  of  milkin'  bein'  bad 
for  the  cow.  I  don't  think  that  rich  people 
who  keep  their  cows  in  mahogany  stalls  has 
got  milk  like  this." 

The  weather  was  bad  that  day  and  at  night 
there  was  a  regular  storm.  The  wind  was  high 
and  the  rain  was  heavy.  A  little  before  bed- 
time the  captain  began  to  complain  of  not  feel- 
ing well,  and  before  long  he  was  in  great  pain. 

"  I've  got  the  cholery,"  he  said,  "  or  some- 
thin'  like  it." 

His  face  grew  very  gray  and  haggard.  Old 
Jane  had  gone  home,  and  I  thought  the  best 
thing  to  do  would  be  to  go  immediately  for  the 
doctor.  So  I  clapped  on  my  hat,  and,  not  think- 
ing it  necessary  to  put  on  even  an  upper-coat, 
I  hurried  to  the  house  of  the  only  physician 
in  the  village.  But  he  was  away  and  was  not 
expected  back  that  night. 

This  was  terrible.  Something  must  be  done 
immediately  for  the  captain,  and  there  was 
no  use  in  going  back  to  him  without  medical 
assistance.  I  did  not  know  what  to  do;  I  did 
not  know  where  to  apply  for  help.  Every 


322  A  SAILOR'S  KNOT 

house  seemed  dark  and  shut  up,  and,  besides,  it 
was  not  the  assistance  of  neighbors,  but  a  doc- 
tor, that  the  captain  needed. 

Two  miles  south  of  the  village  lived  Dr. 
Story.  I  had  often  passed  his  house,  and  the 
thought  now  struck  me  that  the  proper  thing 
to  do  was  to  go  there  as  fast  as  I  could  go. 

So  off  I  started  through  the  storm.  If  I 
should  try  to  get  a  vehicle  there  would  be  a 
long  delay.  I  could  get  there  quicker  on  my 
legs  than  in  any  other  way. 

For  a  time  I  ran.  Then  I  was  obliged  to 
content  myself  with  walking  rapidly.  The 
rain  beat  down  upon  me,  sometimes  almost 
blinding  me.  The  wind  blew  as  if  it  would 
tear  off  my  coat,  and  the  road  was  so  dark  that 
I  could  not  see  how  to  keep  out  of  the  mud  and 
puddles.  Two  or  three  times  I  came  near 
going  into  a  ditch. 

I  had  gone  about  a  mile  when  I  began  to 
feel  tired  and  dispirited.  I  was  walking  in 
the  very  teeth  of  the  storm,  and  it  seemed  as 
if  it  would  be  impossible  for  me  to  accomplish 
the  rest  of  the  distance.  Besides,  it  might  be 
of  no  use  if  I  did  succeed  in  reaching  the  doc- 
tor's house.  He  also  might  be  out.  If  I 
turned,  the  wind  would  be  behind  me,  and  I 


A  SAILOR'S  KNOT  323 

should  soon  be  back  in  the  village.  But  I  did 
not  turn.  I  pressed  on. 

For  the  next  ten  minutes  I  might  have  im- 
agined that  some  sort  of  a  wicked  angel  was 
keeping  company  with  me  and  whispering  into 
my  ear : 

"  Why  do  you  do  this,  anyway  ? "  it  said. 
"  You  might  drop  down  directly,  utterly  ex- 
hausted, and  perish  in  this  storm.  Why  do 
you  do  it  at  all?  You  have  done  already  a 
great  deal  more  than  your  duty.  And,  sup- 
posing you  do  not  get  a  doctor,  and  he  does 
die?  You  can't  blame  yourself,  for  you  have 
done  all  you  could.  And  then,  and  then,  and 
then — think  of  what  will  happen  then!  " 

As  the  wicked  angel  said  this  her  voice  be- 
came so  alluring  and  charming  that  I  believe 
I  did  make  a  sort  of  half  stop.  But  I  went  on. 

"  Look  over  toward  the  right,"  continued 
the  wicked  angel.  "  Do  you  see  that  light? 
That  house  is  only  a  little  way  from  the  road. 
The  people  are  up.  They  doubtless  have  a 
fire  and  are  warm.  They  would  be  glad  to 
take  you  in  out  of  this  storm.  They  will  let 
you  go  to  bed.  They  will  give  you  something 
hot  to  drink.  In  ten  minutes  you  can  be  com- 
fortable and  warm  in  a  bed  which  will  be  de- 


324  A  SAILOR'S  KNOT 

lightful  to  you,  no  matter  what  sort  of  bed 
it  is.  All  you  have  to  do  is  to  turn  and  hurry 
to  that  house." 

But  I  did  not  turn.  There  was  a  woman  in 
this  world  to  whom  I  could  never  confess  that 
I  had  failed,  in  any  way,  to  do  my  very  best 
to  keep  Captain  Asa  Lopper  in  this  world  of 
life. 

I  was  almost  worn-out  when  I  arrived  at 
the  house  of  Dr.  Story.  If  it  had  been  half 
a  mile  farther  I  could  not  have  reached  it. 
Fortunately  the  doctor  was  at  home,  and  after 
I  had  told  him  my  errand  it  was  not  fifteen 
minutes  before  we  were  both  going  back  to 
the  village  in  a  covered  vehicle. 

We  found  the  captain  in  a  very  bad  way. 
He  was  almost  unconscious.  "  If  I  had  been 
an  hour  later,"  said  Dr.  Story,  "  I  do  not  think 
I  could  have  done  much  for  him." 

It  was  nearly  a  week  before  the  captain  was 
himself  again,  and  during  that  time  he  sold 
milk  to  his  neighbors.  While  he  was  confined 
to  his  house  I  was  his  constant  companion,  and 
my  evident  solicitude  made  an  impression 
upon  him.  One  evening — it  was  the  first  day 
he  had  been  able  to  smoke  a  pipe — he  said : 

"  I've  been  thinkin'  a  good  deal  about  you 


A  SAILOR'S  KNOT  325 

lately,  and  about  me,  too.  We've  got  along 
in  a  number  one  fashion  here  together,  and  it 
seems  to  me  as  if  we  might  get  along  together 
in  some  other  way.  You  ought  to  be  doin' 
somethin'  for  yourself,  and  you  might  as  well 
give  up  all  thought  o'  bein'  a  sailor;  and  as 
that's  got  to  be  given  up,  it  ain't  fair  for  me 
to  be  askin'  you  to  stay  here  much  longer. 
You've  done  a  lot  for  me  while  you've  been 
here,  but  you  can't  do  nothin'  for  yourself. 
Xow,  what  I've  been  thinkin'  is  this.  I  told 
you  that  I've  money  put  by.  That  money  is 
more'n  you  may  suppose  it  is,  and  more'n  any- 
body supposes  it  is.  I've  always  been  of  a 
savin'  turn  of  mind,  and  when  I've  got  hold 
of  a  penny  I've  known  how  to  turn  it.  Now, 
it  seems  to  me  that  what  I've  got  might  as 
well  be  turned  in  the  lump.  And  it  strikes  me 
that  maybe  you're  the  man  to  turn  it." 

I  looked  at  him  in  surprise.  I  did  not  know 
what  he  was  talking  about,  and  told  him  so. 

"  Well,"  said  he,  "  this  is  what  I'm  talkin' 
about.  You're  a  linen  merchant;  that's  what 
you  are.  And  you're  such  a  beastly  bad  sailor 
that  I  think  you  must  be  a  pretty  good  mer- 
chant. From  what  you  told  me,  the  man  that 
was  your  partner  was  a  pretty  shackling  sort 


326  A  SAILOR'S  KNOT 

of  a  fellow,  and  I've  no  doubt  that  I  would 
make  a  better  partner  than  he  was.  Now, 
what  do  you  say  to  goin'  into  business  again, 
with  me  as  partner?  It  couldn't  be  a  very 
big  business  at  the  beginnin';  but  if  I  'tend 
to  the  money  part,  and  you  'tend  to  the  linen 
part,  and  if  you  do  your  part  as  well  as  I've 
seen  you  do  things  down  here  in  this  village 
— always  leavin'  out  anything  nautical,  mind 
you — I  don't  see  why  we  couldn't  turn  over 
the  money  I've  got  saved  up,  and  divide  what 
we  make  by  turnin'  it.  Then  you'd  be  in 
business,  and  I'd  be  what  they  call  a  sleepin' 
partner — a  jolly  good  kind  of  a  partner,  for 
a  man  of  my  age.  Now,  what  do  you  say 
to  this? " 

I  shall  not  relate  what  I  said  to  that,  nor 
what  was  said  in  the  many  conversations  on  the 
subject  which  followed.  But  the  end  of  it  all 
was  that  I  went  to  New  York  and  made  ar- 
rangements to  go  into  business  with  Captain 
Asa  as  a  partner,  instead  of  Woodruff,  the  firm 
name  being  "  Radnor  &  Co." 

At  the  end  of  a  fortnight  I  returned  to  the 
village  to  report  to  Captain  Asa  what  I  had 
done,  and  to  inform  him  fully  of  the  condition 
of  our  young  business  house,  in  every  detail  of 


A  SAILOR'S  KNOT  327 

which  I  knew  he  would  be  greatly  interested. 
I  myself  was  in  fairly  good  spirits,  better  than 
I  had  supposed  it  was  possible  for  me  to  be. 
Although  I  must  have  years  of  labor  and  anx- 
iety before  me — for  the  captain's  capital  was 
small,  and  my  credit  had  received  a  heavy 
blow — and  although  there  was  no  reason  to 
feel  sure,  now  that  I  had  given  up  all  thoughts 
of  a  nautical  life,  that  I  should  ever  be  able  to 
attain  that  happiness  which  was  the  only  thing 
worth  working  for  in  this  world,  still  I  felt  en- 
couraged and,  in  a  degree,  cheerful.  There 
was  something  before  me  which  I  could  do, 
and  I  was  doing  it.  Furthermore,  I  had  won 
the  good-will  of  a  good  old  man.  That,  in 
itself,  was  enough  to  cheer  my  soul. 

When  I  reached  the  captain's  cottage  I 
found  he  was  not  alone.  Sitting  near  him 
on  his  little  piazza,  and  smoking  with  him  an 
evening  pipe,  was  a  broad-shouldered,  hand- 
some young  man,  whom,  after  the  captain  had 
warmly  greeted  me,  he  introduced  as  his 
nephew  Tom,  the  son  of  his  youngest  brother. 

"  Now,  whatever  you've  got  to  say,"  re- 
marked Captain  Asa,  "  you  can  say  just  as 
well  before  Tom  as  not.  He's  in  the  family, 
and  he's  one  of  us.  Now,  you  can  see  for  your- 


328  A  SAILOR'S  KNOT 

self  that  Tom  is  a  sailor,  a  regular  out-and-out 
mariner.  He  started  out  in  life  on  shipboard 
just  as  soon  as  he  left  school,  and  he's  worked 
his  way  up  f aster'n  anybody  I  know  of.  Now, 
though  he's  barely  thirty  years  old,  he's  the 
captain  of  as  fine  a  four-masted  schooner  as 
you'll  find  on  this  coast,  from  Newfoundland 
to  Florida." 

At  these  words  a  horrible  iciness  pervaded 
my  system.  I  could  not  tell  myself  why  this 
should  be  so,  but  it  was  so.  Captain  Tom 
Lopper  was  nothing  to  me ;  at  least,  he  should 
have  been  nothing  to  me.  But  the  fact  of  his 
existence  affected  me  to  such  a  degree  that 
Captain  Asa  had  to  ask  me  several  times  to 
tell  him  what  I  had  been  doing,  before  I  could 
make  him  an  adequate  answer. 

All  the  time  that  I  was  talking  about  the 
house  of  Radnor  &  Co.  I  was  thinking  of  Cap- 
tain Tom  Lopper.  He  was  a  bright  young 
fellow,  with  a  bluff,  hearty  expression,  with 
a  more  refined  appearance  and  a  more  cultured 
method  of  expressing  himself  than  ]•  had  been 
accustomed  to  in  sea-going  people.  He  was 
neatly  dressed  in  a  light  summer  suit,  with 
nothing  about  his  clothes  to  suggest  the  sailor. 
And  yet  he  was  plainly  a  sailor  from  crown 


A  SAILOR'S  KNOT  329 

to  heel.  He  did  not  say  very  much,  but  he 
took  an  earnest  interest  in  his  uncle's  affairs, 
and  I  perceived,  with  disapprobation,  that  all 
his  remarks  were  sensible  and  to  the  point. 

I  stayed  over  Sunday  with  Captain  Asa, 
and  his  nephew  very  soon  made  himself  inti- 
mate with  me.  If  he  had  confined  himself  to 
general  subjects  of  conversation  I  should  not 
have  objected  to  this.  But  there  was  only  one 
subject  which  seemed  to  interest  him,  at  least 
when  he  and  I  were  alone,  and  that  was  his 
uncle's  marriage.  Of  course  there  could  be 
no  subject  in  this  world  which  I  cared  less  to 
discuss  with  him.  But  if  he  noticed  this  it 
made  no  impression  upon  him. 

Now,  all  this  was  in  very  great  contrast  with 
Captain  Asa's  manner  of  treating  his  mar- 
riage. He  frequently  spoke  of  Mrs.  Lopper 
to  me,  but  always  in  a  way  which  indicated 
that  we  were  both  to  consider  his  matrimonial 
connection  as  a  matter  of  course,  satisfactory 
to  all  parties  and  needing  no  discussion;  and 
he  always  avoided  saying  anything  which 
might  in  any  way  wound  my  feelings.  In 
fact,  he  showed  a  thoughtful  consideration  of 
which  I  had  not  believed  him  capable. 

But  it  was  very  different  with  Captain  Tom. 


330  A  SAILOR'S  KNOT 

Coming  toward  me  as  I  was  standing  on  the 
beach,  he  laughed  as  he  said : 

"  I  can't  help  thinking  all  the  time  of  this 
queer  match  that  Uncle  Asa  has  made.  It's 
the  funniest  thing  in  the  world  to  think  of 
that  old  man  swooping  down  upon  an  engaged 
couple,  marrying  the  lady,  and  adopting  the 
man.  That's  what  it  looks  like  to  me.  Upon 
my  word  I  can't  think  of  you  in  any  other  way 
than  as  my  uncle's  son-in-law.  Of  course, 
that's  ridiculous,  but  it's  the  way  it  strikes 
me."  And  then  he  laughed  heartily. 

I  could  not  resent  this  sort  of  thing.  The 
young  fellow  was  pleasant  and  good-natured, 
and  I  even  fancied  that  he  had  conceived  a 
liking  for  me.  But  I  could  not  stand  such 
talk — it  was  impossible ;  and  if  there  had  been 
a  train  from  the  village  that  Sunday  evening 
I  should  have  taken  it. 

The  next  morning,  at  breakfast,  Captain 
Tom  was  in  a  very  good-humor.  He  had  a 
holiday,  for  his  ship  was  in  the  docks  for  re- 
pair, and,  after  spending  a  few  more  days  with 
his  uncle,  he  told  me  he  intended  to  run  up 
to  New  York  for  a  week  or  so. 

"  I  want  to  see  the  town,"  he  said,  "  and, 
more  than  that,  I  want  to  go  and  call  on  my 


A  SAILOR'S  KNOT  331 

aunt  Florence.    After  all  I've  heard  about  her 
I've  got  the  greatest  kind  of  desire  to  see  her." 

He  said  a  great  deal  more — something 
about  seeing  me — but  I  heard  none  of  it. 

As  soon  as  breakfast  was  over  I  took  my 
valise  and  started  for  the  train.  • 

All  the  way  to  the  city  I  heard  nothing 
and  thought  of  nothing  but  these  words,  "  my 
aunt  Florence !  "  They  seemed  to  be  glowing 
in  the  sky,  to  be  painted  against  the  trees  and 
rocks;  and  if  I  shut  my  eyes,  they  were  burned 
into  my  brain.  He  was  going  to  see  his  "  aunt 
Florence!  "  It  was  enough  to  drive  me  mad! 

What  happened  when  Captain  Tom  came 
to  New  York  I  do  not  know.  I  know  he 
did  come,  for  he  called  upon  me  twice  at  my 
place  of  business  and  left  his  name;  but,  un- 
fortunately, I  was  not  in  either  time. 

My  mind  seemed  to  be  continually  upon  the 
subject  of  his  visit,  to  the  great  injury  of  my 
business  interest.  Sometimes  I  imagined  this 
thing,  sometimes  that.  I  knew  very  well  that 
Mrs.  Lopper  was  not  obliged  to  receive  all 
her  husband's  relatives,  but  I  knew  also  that 
she  was  kind-hearted,  courteous  and  civil 
to  all.  And  why  should  she  object  to  a  visit 
from  the  nephew  of  that  respectable  old  sea- 


332  A  SAILOR'S  KNOT 

captain  whom  she  had  known  nearly  all  her 
life? 

This  latter  view  took  the  stronger  hold  upon 
nie,  and  I  painted  a  great  many  mental  pic- 
tures based  upon  it. 

One  of  these  pictures — the  one  upon  which 
I  worked  most  frequently — was  this:  Mrs. 
Lopper  had  taken  me  completely  and  abso- 
lutely at  my  word.  I  had  desired  to  with- 
draw from  the  engagement  we  had  made,  and 
she  considered  that  as  a  thing  settled  forever. 
If  I  had  been  the  man  she  would  have  liked 
me  to  be  I  would  have  thrown  all  money  con- 
siderations in  regard  to  her  or  in  regard  to  me 
to  the  wild  winds,  and  would  have  declared 
myself  as  ready  to  marry  her  as  she  was  to 
marry  me.  But  I  had  withdrawn  definitely, 
no  matter  for  what  reason,  and  for  the  future 
I  was  entirely  out  of  the  question. 

Here  now  came  a  fine  young  fellow,  a  real 
sea-captain.  Of  course,  under  the  circum- 
stances, she  would  not  think  of  him  as  any- 
thing but  her  husband's  nephew;  as  such,  a 
relative  by  marriage.  She  would  learn  to  like 
him — I  did  not  believe  it  would  be  very  diffi- 
cult for  her  to  do  that — and  when  the  time 
came  when  she  should  be  free  again,  even  if 


A  SAILOR'S  KNOT  333 

it  should  be  years  ahead,  there  would  be  the 
man  who  would  occupy  the  exact  position 
which  her  father  desired  should  be  occupied 
by  her  husband,  when  he  made  his  last  will 
and  testament  and  conditionally  left  her  his 
great  fortune. 

As  for  Captain  Asa,  it  had  seemed  to  me 
on  my  latest  visit  to  him  that  he  was  growing 
younger.  His  face  was  filling  out,  some  of 
its  wrinkles  had  disappeared,  his  hair  was  not 
quite  so  gray,  he  stepped  about  as  if  he  did 
not  know  what  it  was  to  be  tired.  There  ap- 
pears to  be  nothing  which  so  promotes  longev- 
ity as  to  go  out  of  office.  I  considered  Bis- 
marck; when  he  retired  from  the  affairs  of 
state  his  life  seemed  to  stretch  out  indefinitely 
before  him.  Captain  Asa  had  retired  from 
office.  He  was  a  man  of  leisure.  He  did  noth- 
ing he  did  not  want  to  do.  He  rested  as 
much  as  he  pleased,  he  ate  and  drank  what 
suited  him;  all  his  time  was  his  own,  and  he 
was  happy  and  contented. 

But  the  longer  he  lived  the  better  ac- 
quainted would  Mrs.  Lopper  become  with  Cap- 
tain Tom.  Relationship  by  marriage  would 
gradually  merge  into  friendship.  Captain 
Tom  would  see  to  that.  And  when  the  great 


334  A  SAILOR'S  KNOT 

change  in  her  affairs  should  come,  the  next 
change  would  be  something  which  might  be 
considered  almost  inevitable — at  least  from 
the  point  of  view  in  which  I  regarded  it. 

In  one  of  our  conversations  Captain  Tom 
had  said  to  me  that  I  must  not  think  that  he 
was  in  the  least  degree  jealous  of  me  on  ac- 
count of  what  his  uncle  had  done  in  the  busi- 
ness way. 

"  Of  course,"  said  he,  "  you  know  that  I 
am  the  old  man's  only  heir,  and  that  at  his 
death  I  would  have  had  that  money  he  has 
scratched  together.  But  he  has  talked  over 
the  whole  thing  with  me,  and  I  am  perfectly 
satisfied.  When  he  dies  I  will  inherit  his 
share  in  the  business;  and,  from  what  he  says 
about  you,  I  have  not  the  slightest  doubt  that 
that  will  be  a  great  deal  better  thing  for  me 
than  if  I  simply  had  the  money,  which  I 
should  not  have  known  how  to  manage  as  you 
will  manage  it.  So  I  want  you  to  understand, 
Mr.  Radnor,  that  I  am  with  you  and  uncle,  and 
am  perfectly  satisfied  with  everything  that  has 
been  done." 

This  was  all  very  well  for  Captain  Tom, 
but  if  I  had  said  I  was  not  jealous  of  him  I 
should  have  lied  most  shamefully. 


A  SAILOR'S  KNOT  335 

Once  or  twice  in  the  course  of  the  early 
summer  I  went  down  to  see  Captain  Asa.  I 
found  him  a  little  more  sedate  than  in  former 
days.  I  could  not  gather  from  his  conversa- 
tion that  there  was  any  cause  for  this,  but  I 
could  not  help  noticing  it. 

Captain  Tom  had  not  yet  gone  back  to  his 
ship,  which  appeared  to  take  a  dreadfully  long 
time  to  repair ;  but  I  asked  very  few  questions 
about  him,  and  his  uncle  volunteered  but  lit- 
tle information.  I  knew  he  had  been  to  see 
Mrs.  Lopper — I  steadfastly  kept  myself  up  to 
the  point  of  thinking  of  her  under  that  appel- 
lation— but  what  he  had  thought  of  her  and 
what  she  had  thought  of  him  I  did  not  know 
— and  I  did  not  want  to  know. 

Once  only  did  the  old  captain  make  a  re- 
mark about  his  nephew  which  was  of  any  im- 
portance to  me. 

"  Tom's  a  wild  sort  of  fellow,"  he  said, 
"  and  he's  got  his  head  full  of  schemes,  and 
wants  to  know  what  I  thought  of  his  askin' 
Mrs.  Lopper  and  Miss  Moulton  to  take  a  trip 
down  the  coast  in  his  vessel,  when  she's  re- 
fitted. He  says  they  might  make  up  a  little 
party  and  have  a  jolly  time." 

"  And  what  do  you  think  of  it? "  I  ex- 
claimed, eagerly,  my  heart  sinking  as  I  spoke. 


336  A  SAILOR'S  KNOT 

11 1  don't  think  nothin'  of  it,"  replied  the 
captain,  dryly.  Then,  with  a  touch  of  his 
old  humor,  he  added,  "  Tom's  a  good  deal 
better  hand  at  a  tiller  than  you  are,  but  I 
wouldn't  trust  him  to  jump  after  a  person  over- 
board any  more'n  I  trust  you." 

"  But  what  did  you  say?  "  I  interrupted,  ab- 
ruptly. "  Did  you  advise  him  to  ask  her?  " 

"  All  I  said  was,"  replied  the  old  man, 
"  that  if  he  asked  her  I  wanted  him  to  tell  her 
at  the  same  time  that  I  was  agin'  it,  dead 
agin'  it.  The  fact  is,"  said  he,  putting  his 
hand  on  my  shoulder,  "  that  if  Mrs.  Lopper 
or  you  goes  out  on  a  sailin'  vessel  while  I'm 
livin',  I  want  to  be  at  the  helm." 

This  remark  had  a  strange  effect  upon  me. 
I  could  not  understand  it.  It  seemed  to  indi- 
cate an  interest  in  me,  coupled  with  another 
interest,  which  appeared  inexplicable. 

During  the  rest  of  that  visit  the  old  man  did 
not  talk  much  about  his  nephew,  but  when  he 
did  allude  to  him  he  spoke  in  a  way  which 
gradually  produced  a  suspicion  in  my  mind. 
Could  it  be  possible  that  he  was  becoming 
jealous  of  his  nephew? 

When  I  took  leave  of  the  captain  he  was 
unusually  friendly  and  cordial. 


A  SAILOR'S  KNOT  337 

"  I'm  mighty  glad,"  he  said,  "  that  you  and 
me's  gone  into  business  together.  It's  a  good 
thing  for  you  because  it  keeps  you  in  the  kind 
of  life  that  suits  you,  and  it's  a  good  thing  for 
me  because  I  feel  that  my  money's  goin'  to 
grow  till  it  gets  to  be  worth  somethin'  to  them 
that  comes  after  me.  As  you  know,  I've  fixed 
it  with  the  lawyers  so  that,  if  I  die  sooner'n 
any  of  us  expects  me  to,  that  money  shan't 
be  sudd'nly  drawed  out  of  the  business,  leavin' 
you  swamped." 

I  told  him  that  I  had  not  forgotten  all  that, 
and  I  assured  him  that  I  would  make  it  the 
object  of  my  life  to  see  that  his  money  did 
grow  as  he  hoped  it  would. 

"  That's  right,"  said  he,  as  he  shook  hands 
with  me ;  "  it's  a  good  thing  for  a  young  fel- 
low if  at  least  one  of  his  objects  in  life's  like 
that." 

There  seemed  to  be  a  certain  good  fortune 
connected  with  the  captain's  money.  The 
business  began  to  look  very  promising.  Of 
course,  everything  had  to  be  done  on  a  some- 
what small  scale,  but  I  was  naturally  prudent 
and  cautious,  with  an  eye  to  a  good  bargain, 
and  what  the  captain  had  said  to  me  about  his 
trust  in  my  ability  to  make  his  money  grow 
had  produced  a  considerable  effect  upon  me. 


338  A  SAILOR'S  KNOT 

I  felt  it  my  duty  to  give  up  making  im- 
aginary pictures  about  what  might  or  might 
not  be  happening  here  or  there,  with  this  per- 
son or  that,  and  to  devote  my  mind  as  much 
as  possible  to  strict  business.  In  spite  of  the 
dulness  of  the  trade  I  made  some  very  profit- 
able contracts,  and  had  good  reason  to  hope 
that  I  should  do  still  better  later  in  the  year. 

Occasionally,  however,  I  was  obliged  to  al- 
low my  mind  to  wander  in  the  direction  of 
what  was  to  me  the  most  engrossing  interest 
on  earth,  and  in  this  connection  I  sometimes 
thought  that  it  was  my  duty  to  take  steps  to- 
ward some  sort  of  social  intercourse  with  Mrs. 
Lopper.  We  had  known  each  other  as  well  as 
any  two  people  on  earth  could  know  each 
other.  Why  should  we  now  be  strangers? 
The  connection  between  us  had  been  severed 
utterly,  and  did  not  that  severance  annihilate 
the  past?  Should  not  everything  that  was 
gone  by  be  treated  as  if  it  had  never  been? 
Ought  I  to  continue  my  friendly  relations  with 
the  old  captain  and  have  nothing  whatever  to 
do  with  his  wife?  Did  it  not  give  reason  to 
suppose  that  I  still  encouraged  feelings  which 
should  be  utterly  suppressed?  If  there  were 
overtures  to  be  made,  I  ought  to  make  them. 


A  SAILOR'S  KNOT  339 

I  had  withdrawn — I  was  the  one  who  should 
approach  again.  My  heart  might  be  broken, 
but  that  was  no  excuse  for  not  behaving  with 
courtesy. 

I  reasoned  a  great  deal  in  this  way,  but  it 
was  absolutely  useless.  I  knew  that  it  would 
be  impossible  for  me  to  appear  before  the 
woman  I  had  once  loved  so  passionately,  and 
behave  as  if  I  had  never  loved  her.  I  was 
willing  to  do  my  duty  so  far  as  I  could,  but 
if  that  should  be  my  duty,  I  was  not  equal 
to  it. 

During  the  summer  I  applied  myself  most 
strictly  to  business,  living  in  airy  uptown  lodg- 
ings, and  not  going  to  the  country  at  all.  But 
toward  the  end  of  the  season  I  began  to  feel 
that  I  must  see  Captain  Asa  again.  I  still 
felt,  in  a  way,  that  I  must  take  care  of  him, 
that  I  must  act  the  part  of  guardian-angel  to 
the  old  man.  I  had  no  reason  to  suppose  that 
he  needed  my  protection,  for  in  the  few  notes 
I  had  received  from  him  during  the  summer 
he  always  said  he  was  very  well,  and  I  knew 
that  he  had  given  up  the  cultivation  of  cu- 
cumbers, and  that  his  cow  had  gone  dry.  In 
fact,  my  observation  during  my  later  visits  had 
shown  me  that  the  old  man  was  getting  to  be 
very  careful  of  himself. 


340  A  SAILOR'S  KNOT 

There  was  only  one  reason  for  my  imagining 
that  Captain  Asa  needed  any  sort  of  protec- 
tion, and  that  reason  seemed  to  lie  in  the  di- 
rection of  his  nephew.  I  could  not  imagine 
what  that  young  sea-captain  might  do  which 
was  not  right  and  desirable,  but  it  seemed  to 
me  that  a  man  of  his  nature  must  be  doing — 
or  must  want  to  be  doing — things  undesirable 
and  not  right. 

Perhaps  he  might  induce  his  uncle  to  take 
a  cruise  with  him  before  he  had  made  a  trial 
trip  with  his  vessel,  and  that  something  might 
be  found  to  be  wrong  when  they  were  far  from 
land,  and  that  they  might  all  go  to  the  bottom 
together.  If  such  a  thing  had  occurred,  I 
should  have  looked  upon  Captain  Tom  as  a 
murderer.  I  would  not  have  taxed  him  with 
committing  a  murder  in  his  own  interest,  be- 
cause it  would  not  be  right  for  me  to  charge 
any  man  with  such  a  crime  as  that. 

But  the  thought  of  such  an  accident  made 
me  shiver.  It  is  terrible  to  think  of  anyone, 
especially  one  honored  and  respected  and 
loved,  as  living  a  life  the  loss  of  which  would 
be  an  advantage  to  other  people.  If  such  a 
life  should  come  within  the  scope  of  our  ac- 
tion and  influence,  how  careful  we  should  be 


A  SAILOR'S  KNOT  341 

to  cherish,  protect,  and  defend  it,  in  every 
way  and  at  all  times! 

Thinking  over  these  things,  I  journeyed 
down  to  the  seaside  village,  and  there,  to  my 
dismay,  I  found  that  Captain  Asa  was  not  at 
home.  He  had  left  his  cottage  about  a  week 
before,  and  old  Jane  could  tell  me  nothing 
about  his  probable  destination. 

"  He  said  he  was  goin'  off  for  a  holiday, 
and  that's  all  he  did  say  about  his  doin's,"  she 
told  me.  "  But  he  left  word  that  if  you  or 
Captain  Tom  came  down  here,  you  was  to  be 
taken  care  of  just  the  same  as  if  he  was  at 
home." 

"  And  when  does  he  expect  to  come  back?  " 
I  demanded. 

"  I  don't  know  no  more  about  that,"  she  re- 
plied, "  than  I  know  where  he  is.  When  the 
captain's  got  anything  to  do,  he  goes  along 
and  does  it.  Many  a  time,  when  he  was  a 
younger  man,  he's  gone  off  on  a  cruise  and  no- 
body knowed  where  he'd  gone  to  cruise  to,  and 
when  he  was  coming  back.  But  when  he  was 
ready  his  boat  would  sail  into  the  bay,  and  that 
would  be  the  end  of  it." 

I  stayed  at  the  cottage  that  night  in  a  state 
of  great  perplexity  and  anxiety.  That  the  cap- 


342  A  SAILOR'S  KNOT 

tain  should  go  away  in  this  manner,  without 
telling  anybody  where  he  was  going,  and  espe- 
cially without  telling  me,  his  business  partner, 
who  ought  to  know  all  his  movements,  was 
something  I  could  not  comprehend.  That 
Captain  Tom  was  not  with  him  was  plain 
enough  from  his  orders  to  old  Jane.  And  that 
he  had  thought  it  probable  that  I  might  come 
down  there  seemed  evident.  There  could  be 
no  doubt  that  he  did  not  want  me  to  know 
where  he  had  gone. 

A  horrible  idea  crept  into  my  mind.  Could 
it  be  possible  that  for  any  reason  the  old  man 
had  determined  to  go  away,  not  only  from  his 
cottage  and  the  village,  but  from  the  world? 
At  this  thought  a  glittering,  black-hearted 
demon  of  a  possibility  rose  before  me,  but  I 
am  happy  to  say  that  I  promptly  assailed  this 
accursed  phantom  and  drove  it  out  of  my 
sight. 

There  was  no  use  of  my  staying  in  the  vil- 
lage. The  captain  might  come  back  soon,  and 
he  might  not;  besides,  there  was  reason  to 
suppose  that  if  he  returned  he  would  prefer 
that  I  should  not  be  there  upon  his  arrival.  I 
made  old  Jane  promise  to  write  to  me  just  as 
soon  as  he  got  back,  and  then  I  departed. 


A  SAILOR'S  KNOT  343 

For  a  week  or  more  I  remained  in  New 
York.  It  was  hot.  It  was  oppressive.  In 
mind  and  body  I  felt  borne  down,  but  I  could 
not  get  away.  While  I  was  in  this  state  of 
anxiety  concerning  the  captain,  old  Jane  had 
not  written. 

One  morning  I  was  sitting  in  my  counting- 
house  alone,  for  my  bookkeeper  had  a  holiday, 
when  I  was  told  that  a  lady  wished  to  see  me. 
Almost  instantly  the  visitor  entered  the  room. 
It  was  Miss  Moulton!  She  was  in  a  state  of 
great  agitation,  and  my  heart  sank  as  I  beheld 
her.  Had  she  heard  some  dreadful  news  about 
the  captain? 

"  Mr.  Radnor,"  she  said,  forgetting  to 
shake  hands  with  me,  "  I  have  something  ter- 
rible to  tell  you.  Please  close  the  door,  for 
no  one  should  hear  what  I  have  to  say." 

"What!"  I  exclaimed;  "has  anything 
happened  to — 

Miss  Moulton  interrupted  me.  She  evi- 
dently misunderstood  the  object  of  my  anx- 
iety. 

"Oh,  Florence  is  well,"  she  said;  "there 
has  been  no  accident." 

I  did  not  wonder  at  Miss  Moulton's  condi- 
tion when  I  heard  her  tale.  It  wag  told  in 


34A  A  SAILOR'S  KNOT 

many  words  and  in  a  disjointed  way,  but  the 
substance  of  it  was  that  the  day  before  the  mail 
had  brought  to  Florence  a  most  dreadful  com- 
munication. It  was  a  legal  document,  which 
informed  her  that  Captain  Asa  Lopper  had 
gone  out  West  and  had  there  procured  a  di- 
vorce from  her,  on  the  ground  of  desertion. 
He  had  gone  off  secretly  to  commit  this  hor- 
rible crime,  but  he  had  taken  with  him  the 
written  testimony  from  people  in  the  village 
that  he  had  been  entirely  deserted  by  his  wife 
ever  since  their  marriage.  The  paper  showed 
that  an  absolute  decree  of  divorce  had  been 
obtained.  Florence  had  been  so  shocked  that 
Miss  Moulton  thought  at  one  time  she  would 
have  to  send  for  a  doctor.  The  blood  raced 
through  my  veins.  My  face  must  have  blazed. 

"  What  do  you  intend  to  do?  "  I  cried. 

"  I  don't  know,"  she  replied.  "  We  have 
sent  for  our  lawyer,  but  he  is  out  of  town. 
I  thought  I  must  come  to  you  and  tell  you  all 
about  it.  There  is  no  one  else  to  whom  I  can 
speak." 

I  sprang  to  my  feet,  furious  with  passion. 

"  What  are  you  going  to  do  ? "  she  asked, 
piteously. 

"  Do!  "  I  cried,  "  I  am  going  to  see  him.    I 


"IT    WAS    MISS    MOULTON." 


A  SAILOfi'S  KNOT  345 

shall  go  to  his  cottage  and  shall  wait  there  until 
he  comes  back." 

Miss  Moulton  was  evidently  frightened. 
She  begged  me  not  to  be  violent,  but  I  assured 
her  she  need  have  no  fears  of  that  kind. 

Neither  of  us  was  in  a  condition  to  talk 
much  further  upon  this  subject.  I  promised 
that  I  would  report  as  soon  as  I  found  out 
anything,  and  then  she  left  me. 

The  first  train  down  carried  me  to  the  vil- 
lage by  the  seaside — to  the  house  of  the  man 
who  had  done  this  foul  wrong  to  the  noblest, 
the  most  honorable  woman  in  the  world. 

I  was  at  a  white  heat  with  rage.  I  forgot 
my  relations  with  the  old  man.  I  only  re- 
membered how  he  had  treated  Florence.  I 
did  not  know  that  he  was  at  his  home,  but 
he  must  return  sometime,  and  I  would  wait 
until  he  came. 

It  was  a  rainy  day  when  I  reached  Captain 
Asa's  cottage.  I  entered  without  knocking, 
and  found  the  old  man  smoking  his  pipe  be- 
fore the  kitchen  fire.  He  arose  and  held  out 
his  hand,  but  I  did  not  take  it.  I  stood  before 
him,  trembling  with  the  vehemence  of  my 
emotions.  Without  preface  of  any  kind,  or 
explanation  of  the  manner  in  which  I  had 


346  A  SAILOR'S  KNOT 

come  to  know  of  what  he  had  done,  I  poured 
out  upon  him  all  the  contempt,  all  the  indig- 
nation which  had  been  gathering  and  seething 
within  me  ever  since  Miss  Moulton  had  spoken 
to  me.  I  made  no  allusion  to  anything  that 
he  had  done,  except  this  one  infamous  act  of 
treachery,  of  insult,  of  cruelty,  of  dishonesty. 

Soon  after  I  began  to  speak  the  captain  sat 
down,  held  his  pipe  in  his  hand  without  smok- 
ing it,  and  listened  attentively.  When  I  had 
finished,  for  want  of  words  and  breath,  he 
said,  without  any  show  of  emotion: 

"  Now,  I  want  you  to  know  that  I'm  very 
glad  to  hear  you  talk  like  that.  If  you  had 
talked  in  any  other  way  I  would  have  had  a 
very  different  opinion  of  you  from  what  I've 
got  now.  There  may  be  some  sense  in  what 
you  say,  and  it  may  be  that  there  isn't  any. 
It  shows  you've  got  the  right  spirit,  and  I 
wouldn't  want  to  think  of  you  as  a  fellow  who 
hadn't  got  the  right  spirit.  And  now,  if  you 
are  pretty  well  played  out  as  far  as  talkin' 
goes,  I'll  have  a  word  to  say;  and  I  advise 
you  to  take  a  chair."  But  I  would  not  sit 
down.  I  stood  and  listened  to  him. 

"  You're  fiery  mad,"  said  he,  "  and  I'm  glad 
of  it.  And  I  expect  that  Mrs.  Lopper  that 


A  SAILOR'S  KNOT  347 

was  is  fiery  mad,  too.  I'm  sorry  for  that,  for 
I  wouldn't  do  anything  to  disturb  her  mind 
if  I  could  help  doin'  it.  As  for  her  aunt,  I 
expect  she's  simply  blazin'.  But  it  couldn't 
be  helped.  There  wasn't  no  other  way  to  do 
it.  The  whole  business  was  goin'  on  in  such  a 
way  that  I  couldn't  stand  it.  I  felt  that  I 
wasn't  carryin'  on  my  part  of  the  bargain  as  I 
expected  to  carry  it  on.  Every  day  I  felt 
livelier  and  tougher.  Every  day  my  nephew 
Tom,  when  he  was  here,  said  to  me  in  the 
mornin'  when  he  come  down,  i  Uncle,  you're 
lookin'  younger  than  you  was  yesterday.' 
And  I  don't  wonder  that  he  said  so,  for  I  felt 
it. 

"  Now,  I  was  mighty  glad  that  all  this  was 
so.  This  world  suits  me  fust-rate,  and  I  want 
to  stay  in  it  as  long  as  I  can.  But  I  felt  kind 
o'  mean.  I  knew  that  I  wasn't  standin'  up  to 
what  might  reasonably  be  expected  of  me,  and 
that's  a  thing  that's  never  happened  to  me 
before.  But  I  want  you  to  understand  that 
when  I  was  thinkin'  in  this  way,  I  wasn't 
thinkin'  of  Mrs.  Lopper  that  was,  then,  as  much 
as  I  was  thinkin'  of  you.  For  a  good  while 
I've  had  a  powerful  feelin'  for  you.  It  had 
a  pretty  bad  upset  that  day  when  we  were  out 


348  A  SAILOR'S  KNOT 

on  the  bay,  but  after  you  fished  me  out  of  the 
water,  and  after  you  lived  with  me  as  you 
did  live  with  me,  and  did  the  things  you  did 
do,  that  feelin'  grew  powerfuller  and  power- 
fuller. 

"  And  then  there  was  another  thing  that 
troubled  me,  and  that  concerned  my  nephew 
Tom.  He's  a  good  fellow,  but  I  don't  know 
so  very  much  about  him — he's  been  away  to 
sea  most  of  his  life;  and  as  to  Mrs.  Lopper 
that  was,  I  don't  know  so  very  much  about 
her.  I  knowed  her  father,  and  I'd  seen  her 
off  and  on  ever  since  she  was  a  little  girl ;  but 
as  for  her  inside  mind,  of  course  I  couldn't 
be  expected  to  know  about  that.  And  so, 
when  Tom  had  been  to  see  her  two  or  three 
times,  and  come  here  talkin'  about  her  as  he 
did  talk,  it  made  me  more  uncomfortable  than 
I  was  before. 

"  Now,  Tom's  got  nothin'  to  complain  of 
about  me.  When  I  die  he'll  have  a  share  of 
the  business,  unless  you  choose  to  buy  him  out. 
So,  as  I  felt  that  I  didn't  owe  him  nothin', 
I  didn't  like  the  idee  of  that  young  fellow 
gettin'  any  notions  into  his  mind  that  wasn't 
intended  to  be  there  when  I  got  up  this  plan 
of  savin'  Captain  Brower's  money  for  his 


A  SAILOR'S  KNOT  349 

daughter,  and  givin'  myself  at  the  same  time 
a  comfortable  income  without  being  obliged 
to  work  or  to  draw  on  my  savin's.  I  didn't 
want  Tom  to  put  his  foot  into  this  business. 
But  the  more  I  thought  about  it  the  more 
likely  it  seemed  to  me  that  he  might  put  his 
foot  into  it. 

"  Then,  again,  it  looked  to  me  as  if  you  were 
gettin'  a  little  more  humble  than  you  was — 
a  little  more  like  not  holdin'  out — a  little  more 
like  givin'  yourself  up  to  your  business  and 
tryin'  to  forget  things  which  had  gone  wrong 
and  which  might  never  come  straight  again. 
I  didn't  want  you  to  do  that.  It  made  me  feel 
as  if  I'd  tried  to  mend  somethin'  and  had 
broken  it  all  to  smash. 

"  '  So,'  said  I  to  myself,  '  this  thing's  got  to 
be  brought  up  with  a  round  turn.'  Then  I 
found  out  everything  I  could,  went  out  West, 
and  brought  it  up  with  a  round  turn.  I 
didn't  ask  anybody  to  agree,  because  I  knowed 
nobody  would  agree.  And  I  didn't  tell  any- 
body about  it,  because  I  knowed  they'd  try 
to  stop  it;  but  I  wanted  to  do  it  and  I  didn't 
intend  it  to  be  stopped. 

"  Now  it's  done,  hard  and  fast,  and  no 
goin'  back.  That  young  woman  you  used  to 


350  A  SAILOR'S  KNOT 

walk  about  with  on  the  sands  down  here  hasn't 
got  no  husband.  She's  just  as  free  as  air — 
unless  she  considers  herself  bound  to  pay  me 
two  dollars  a  day  for  the  rest  of  my  life,  and 
I'm  inclined  to  think  she'd  feel  that  way,  for 
our  bargain  said  that  I  was  to  have  the  money 
as  long  as  I  live,  without  mentionin'  anything 
that  might  happen  in  the  meantime.  And 
I'm  just  as  free  as — well — just  as  free  as 
water.  I  can  do  what  I  please,  and  what  any- 
body else  does  is  no  concern  of  mine — at  least, 
I  can't  prevent  it.  As  for  you,  I  can't  say  that 
I  consider  you  free  at  all — at  least,  accordin' 
to  my  way  of  thinkin' ;  "  and  as  he  said  this  he 
looked  at  me  with  a  kindly  grin.  "  No,  sir, 
you're  the  only  one  of  the  whole  business  that's 
bound  to  do  anything.  And  I  don't  think  your 
duty  is  goin'  to  weigh  very  heavy  on  you." 

It  was  impossible  for  me  to  be  angry  with 
this  old  marine  angel.  The  crime  with  which 
I  had  come  down  here  to  charge  him  and  to 
punish  him  for  doing  (if  there  were  any  way 
in  which  punishment  could  be  inflicted)  had 
been  done  for  me.  I  held  out  my  hand  to  him 
and  begged  his  pardon  for  what  I  had  said, 
at  all  of  which  he  pooh-poohed,  and  filled  me 
a  pipe. 


A  SAILOR'S  KNOT  351 

I  stayed  a  day  with  Captain  Asa,  and  then 
both  he  and  I  agreed  that  it  was  my  duty  to 
go  back  to  New  York  and  report  the  result  of 
my  interview  with  him.  He  did  not  give  me 
many  injunctions.  I  understood  the  whole 
story,  he  said,  and  I  must  make  the  best  of  it. 

On  my  way  back  to  the  city  my  brain  did 
as  much  working  as  the  locomotive  which  drew 
the  train.  I  was  going  to  see  Florence!  And 
now  that  I  had  business  with  her — now  that 
I  had  to  explain  a  crime  which  had  been  com- 
mitted against  her,  and  to  defend  the  perpe- 
trator of  that  crime  so  far  as  I  might — I  felt 
that  I  could  see  her  and  speak  to  her. 

As  to  the  duty  of  which  Captain  Asa  had 
good-naturedly  twitted  me,  I  determined  to  be 
strong  and  brave  and  to  set  that  entirely  aside. 
How  Florence  might  feel  toward  me  I  could 
not  tell.  Perhaps  she  might  charge  me  with 
complicity  in  this  indignity  which  .had  been 
thrust  upon  her.  But  even  if  she  held  me 
innocent  of  this,  she  may  have  changed  en- 
tirely her  former  opinion  of  me.  I  had  de- 
liberately renounced  her.  ISTow,  even  if  it  be 
for  her  own  good,  I  know  that  a  woman  re- 
sents the  rejection  of  her  freely  offered  love. 
She  would  prefer  to  have  that  love  accepted, 


352  A  SAILOR'S  KNOT 

no  matter  what  misfortune  it  might  bring  upon 
her. 

But,  let  Florence  think  of  me  as  she  would, 
I  had  determined  upon  one  course.  I  would 
begin  again,  at  the  very  beginning.  I  would 
consider  all  that  had  happened  as  something 
which  had  passed  and  which  had  no  influence 
upon  me.  I  would  take  no  advantage  of  any- 
thing she  had  ever  said  to  me.  I  would  go  to 
her  as  a  friend — as  an  envoy.  If  afterward 
she  would  allow  me  to  become  her  lover,  this 
world  would  become  Paradise.  But  I  would 
presume  upon  nothing.  One  reflection  gave 
me  great  comfort — I  should  not  go  to  her  as  a 
pauper,  asking  to  share  in  her  fortune.  The 
great  goodness  of  the  captain  had  made  it  pos- 
sible for  me  to  present  myself  as  a  young  mer- 
chant with  a  fair  chance  of  success  before 
him. 

With  all  these  reasons  and  resolutions  I 
thoroughly  fortified  myself.  I  had  taken  my 
position  and  I  intended  to  make  it  plain  ex- 
actly where  I  stood. 

When  I  reached  the  New  York  house  I  in- 
quired for  Miss  Moulton.  Of  course  I  must 
see  her  first,  because  she  had  sent  me  to  the 
captain,  and  I  must  make  my  report  to  her. 


A  SAILOR'S  KNOT  353 

But  before  I  did  anything  else  I  must  make 
inquiries  about  Florence.  I  had  had  many 
anxieties  regarding  the  possible  result  of  the 
great  blow  which  had  been  dealt  her. 

Miss  Moulton  was  at  home.  I  sent  up  my 
card  and  was  shown  into  the  parlor.  In  a 
very  few  minutes  someone  entered  by  a  side 
door.  I  turned  quickly.  It  was  Florence. 

I  stood  speechless  as  she  advanced.  As  all 
the  events  of  his  life  rush  to  the  mind  of  a 
drowning  man,  so  into  my  mind  rushed  a  long 
procession  of  the  things  which  I  had  intended 
to  say  to  Miss  Moulton,  and  which  I  must  now 
say  to  Florence.  It  was  a  terrible  emergency. 
Without  warning,  without  an  instant  to  pre- 
pare myself,  I  must  treat  this  heavenly  beauty 
as  a  middle-aged  spinster  to  whom  I  had  come 
to  make  a  report. 

It  is  astonishing  how  I  remembered  every- 
thing that  I  had  arranged  to  say;  how  all  these 
statements,  these  reasons,  these  explanations, 
ranged  themselves  in  perfect  order  according 
to  their  proper  precedence.  And  it  is  still 
more  astonishing  how  instantaneously,  abso- 
lutely, and  utterly  they  all  disappeared  from 
existence.  In  two  seconds  they  had  come  and 
gone. 


354  A  SAILOR'S  SNOT 

In  her  light  muslins  Florence  was  more 
lovely  than  ever.  Her  eyes  were  bright.  She 
came  to  me  with  her  hand  outstretched.  I 
put  out  my  hand;  then  the  other,  without 
volition  on  my  part,  extended  itself.  I  stepped 
to  meet  her,  and  in  a  moment  she  was  clasped 
to  my  breast.  As  if  it  had  been  yesterday 
that  we  two  had  wandered  on  the  sands,  we 
sat  down  side  by  side,  hand  in  hand.  After  a 
little  she  told  me,  with  tears  in  her  eyes,  that 
nothing  in  this  world  could  be  more  surpris- 
ing than  that  this  had  happened  as  it  did  hap- 
pen. But  it  had  happened.  It  was  some- 
thing with  which  neither  of  us  had  anything 
to  do. 

It  must  have  been  half  an  hour  after  this 
that  I  felt  myself  bound  to  call  together  the 
array  of  statements  and  facts  which  I  had 
come  here  to  report.  But  as  soon  as  I  began 
to  speak  about  the  captain  Florence  stopped 
me.  She  would  not  hear  of  him.  No  matter 
what  he  had  done  or  why  he  had  done  it, 
she  could  not  forgive  him.  So  curious  is  the 
mind  of  woman !  She  accepted  the  great  hap- 
piness which  he  had  given  her,  because  there 
was  nothing  for  her  to  do  but  to  accept  it. 
But  she  would  not  pardon  him  for  having 


A  SAILOR'S  KNOT  355 

given  it.     However,  I  pardoned  him  for  both 
of  us,  and  I  loved  him  for  myself. 


For  some  years  after  we  were  married  Cap- 
tain Asa  Lopper  continued  to  be  a  hearty  old 
man.  He  had  an  income  of  two  dollars  a  day, 
and  appeared  to  be  eminently  satisfied  with 
what  life  had  given  him.  I  frequently  wrote 
him  concerning  our  business,  and  I  made  it  a 
point  to  pay  him  an  occasional  visit.  But 
Florence  never  went  with  me.  She  never  for- 
got that  he  gave  us  to  each  other,  but  also  she 
never  forgot  how  he  did  it. 

Good  fortune  seemed  to  attend  the  captain's 
money.  The  affairs  of  the  firm  of  Radnor 
&  Co.  improved  rapidly.  Moreover,  we  had 
another  partner,  for  some  of  Florence's  for- 
tune was  invested  in  the  business. 

I  now  felt  quite  able  to  buy  out  Captain  Asa 
and  keep  the  business  in  my  family.  But  I 
would  not  do  so.  I  knew  that  it  delighted  his 
old  soul  to  know  that  his  money  was  gradually 
increasing,  without  labor  of  his  own,  and  I 
would  not  deprive  him  of  this  reward  for  all 
that  he  had  done  for  others.  When  I  visited 


356  A  SAILOR'S  KNOT 

him  he  never  complained  of  Florence's  atti- 
tude toward  him. 

"  I  don't  blame  her,"  he  once  said;  "  in  fact 
I  wouldn't  think  as  much  of  her  as  I  do  if  she 
did  different.  I  married  her  fairly  and  square- 
ly, and  I  unmarried  her  unfairly.  She's  down 
on  that  sort  of  thing,  and  that's  just  what  she 
ought  to  be,  and  we're  satisfied  all  around." 

All  of  this  happened  a  good  while  ago,  and 
the  dear  old  captain  is  now  dead.  I  have 
bought  out  his  share  of  the  business  from  Cap- 
tain Tom,  who  was  very  glad  to  be  thus  en- 
abled to  become  the  owner  of  a  new  ship. 

Florence  and  I  have  built  a  pretty  cottage 
near  the  beach  where  we  first  found  out  what 
we  were  to  each  other,  and  if  the  marine  angel 
who  did  so  much  for  us  during  his  life  has  any 
power  to  influence  our  welfare  now,  I  am  sure 
he  is  exerting  it,  for  I  don't  see  how  any  two 
people  could  be  happier  than  we  are. 


THE  GREAT  STAIRCASE  AT 
LANDOVER  HALL 


THE  GREAT  STAIRCASE  AT 
LANDOVER   HALL 

I  WAS  spending  a  few  days  in  the  little  vil- 
lage of  Landover,  simply  for  the  purpose 
of  enjoying  the  beautiful  scenery  of  the  neigh- 
borhood. I  had  come  up  from  Mexico  be- 
cause the  weather  was  growing  too  warm  in 
that  region,  and  I  was  glad  of  the  chance  to 
vary  my  interesting  and  sometimes  exciting 
travels  with  a  little  rest  in  the  midst  of  this 
rural  quiet. 

It  was  early  summer,  and  I  had  started  out 
for  an  afternoon  walk,  when,  just  upon  the 
outskirts  of  the  village,  my  attention  was  at- 
tracted by  a  little  group  at  a  gateway  which 
opened  upon  the  road.  There  were  two  wom- 
en and  an  elderly  man.  The  women  appeared 
to  be  taking  leave  of  the  man,  and  one  of 
them  frequently  put  her  handkerchief  to  her 
eyes.  I  walked  slowly,  because  I  did  not  wish 
to  intrude  upon  what  seemed  to  be  an  affect- 
359 


360  TEE  ORE  AT  STAIRCASE 

ing  leave-taking;  so  when  I  reached  the  gate 
the  women  had  gone,  but  the  man  was  still 
standing  there,  looking  after  them. 

Glancing  over  the  low  fence,  I  saw  a  very 
pretty  grove,  apparently  not  well  kept,  and 
some  distance  back,  among  the  trees,  a  large, 
old  house.  The  man  was  looking  at  me  with 
a  curiosity  which  country  people  naturally  be- 
tray when  they  see  a  stranger,  and,  as  I  was 
glad  to  have  someone  to  talk  to,  I  stopped. 

"  Is  this  one  of  the  old  family  mansions  of 
Landover?  "  I  asked.  He  was  a  good-looking 
man,  with  the  air  of  a  head  gardener. 

"  It  is  not  one  of  them,  sir,"  he  answered; 
"  it  is  the  only  one  in  the  village.  It  is  called 
Landover  Hall,  and  the  other  houses  growed 
up  around  it." 

"  Who  owns  it?  "  I  asked. 

"  That  is  hard  to  say,  sir,"  he  said,  with  a 
grim  smile;  "  though  perhaps  I  could  tell  you 
in  the  course  of  a  couple  of  weeks.  The  fam- 
ily who  lived  there  is  dead  and  gone,  and 
everything  in  it  is  to  be  sold  at  auction." 

I  became  interested,  and  asked  some  ques- 
tions, which  the  man  was  very  willing  to  an- 
swer. It  was  an  old  couple  who  had  owned  it, 
he  said.  The  husband  had  died  the  previous 


THE  GREAT  STAIRCASE  361 

year,  and  the  wife  about  ten  days  ago.  The 
heirs  were  a  brother  and  sister  living  out  in 
Colorado,  and,  as  they  had  never  seen  the 
house,  and  cared  nothing  about  it,  or  about 
anything  that  was  in  it,  they  had  written  that 
they  wished  everything  to  be  sold,  and  the 
money  sent  to  them  as  soon  as  possible. 

"  And  that  is  the  way  it  stands,"  said  the 
old  man.  "  Next  week  there  is  to  be  a  sale 
of  the  personal  property — a  '  vandoo '  we  call 
it  out  here — and  every  movable  thing  in  the 
house  and  grounds  is  to  be  sold  to  the  highest 
bidder;  and  mighty  little  the  things  will 
bring,  it's  my  opinion.  Then  the  house  will 
be  sold,  as  soon  as  anybody  can  be  found  who 
wants  it." 

"  Then  there  is  no  one  living  in  the  house 
at  present  ?  "  said  I. 

"  Nobody  but  me,"  he  answered.  "  That 
was  the  cook  and  her  daughter,  the  chamber- 
maid, who  just  left  here.  There  is  a  black  man 
who  attends  to  the  horses  and  cows,  but  he 
will  go  when  they  are  sold;  and  very  soon  I 
will  go  too,  I  suppose." 

"  Have  you  lived  here  long?  "  I  asked. 

"  Pretty  near  all  my  life,"  said  he. 

I  was  greatly  interested  in  old  houses,  and 
I  asked  the  man  if  I  might  look  at  the  place. 


362  THE  ORE  AT  STAIRCASE 

"  I  have  not  had  any  orders  to  show  it,"  he 
said;  "  but,  as  everything  is  for  sale,  I  sup- 
pose the  sooner  people  see  the  household  goods 
the  better;  there's  many  a  bit  of  old  furniture, 
candlesticks,  and  all  that  sort  of  thing,  which 
strangers  might  like  to  buy.  Oh,  yes;  you 
can  come  in  if  you  like." 

I  shall  not  attempt  to  describe  the  delightful 
hour  I  spent  in  that  old  house  and  in  the  sur- 
rounding grounds.  There  was  a  great  piazza. 
in  front;  a  wide  hall  stretched  into  the  in- 
terior of  the  mansion,  with  a  large  fireplace 
on  one  side  and  a  noble  staircase  at  the  further 
end,  a  single  flight  of  stairs  running  up  to  a 
platform,  and  then  branching  off  on  each  side 
to  the  second  floor.  On  the  landing  stood  one 
of  the  tallest  clocks  I  have  ever  seen.  There 
were  portraits  on  the  walls,  and  here  and  there 
a  sporting  picture,  interspersed  with  antlers 
and  foxes'  heads  mounted  on  panels,  with  the 
date  of  the  hunt  inscribed  beneath.  There  was 
an  air  of  largeness  and  gravity  about  the  fur- 
niture in  the  hall,  which  was  very  pleasing  to 
me,  and  when  I  entered  the  long  drawing- 
room  I  found  it  so  filled  with  books  and  bric- 
a-brac  of  the  olden  days,  with  many  quaint 
furnishings,  that,  had  I  been  left  to  myself, 


THE  GREAT  STAIRCASE  363 

even  the  long  summer  afternoon  would  not 
have  sufficed  for  their  examination.  Upstairs 
was  the  same  air  of  old-fashioned  comfort. 
The  grounds — the  grass  rather  long,  and  the 
bushes  untrimmed — were  shaded  by  some 
grand  old  trees,  and  beyond  there  were  gardens 
and  some  green  pasture-fields. 

I  did  not  take  the  walk  that  I  had  proposed 
to  myself.  When  I  left  the  old  house  I  in- 
quired the  name  of  the  agent  who  had  charge 
of  the  estate,  and  then  I  went  back  to  the  vil- 
lage inn,  where  I  sat  communing  with  myself 
for  the  rest  of  the  afternoon  and  all  the  even- 
ing. 

I  was  not  yet  thirty,  I  had  a  good  fortune, 
and  I  had  travelled  until  I  was  tired  of  moving 
about  the  world.  Often  I  had  had  visions  of 
a  home,  but  they  had  been  very  vague  and 
fanciful  ones.  Now,  for  the  first  time  in  my 
life,  I  had  seen  a  home  for  which  I  really 
might  care;  a  house  to  which  I  might  bring 
only  my  wearing  apparel,  and  then  sit  down 
surrounded  by  everything  I  needed,  not  even 
excepting  books. 

Immediately  after  breakfast  I  repaired  to 
the  office  of  Mr.  Marchmay,  the  lawyer  who 
had  charge  of  the  property.  I  stayed  there  a 


364  THE  GREAT  STAIRCASE 

long  time.  Mr.  Marchmay  took  dinner  with 
me  at  the  inn,  and  in  the  evening  we  sent  a 
telegram  to  Colorado.  I  made  a  proposition  to 
buy  everything  for  cash,  and  the  price  agreed 
upon  between  Mr.  Marchmay  and  myself 
was  considerably  higher  than  could  have  been 
expected  had  the  property  been  sold  at  auction. 
It  is  needless  to  say  that  my  offer  was  quickly 
accepted,  and  in  less  than  a  week  from  the  day 
I  had  first  seen  the  old  house  I  became  its 
owner.  The  cook  and  the  housemaid,  who  had 
retired  in  tears  from  its  gateway,  were  sent  for, 
and  reinstalled  in  their  offices ;  the  black  man 
who  had  charge  of  the  horses  and  cows  con- 
tinued to  take  care  of  them,  and  old  Robert 
Flake  was  retained  in  the  position  of  head 
gardener  and  general  caretaker,  which  he  had 
held  for  so  many  years. 

That  summer  was  a  season  of  delight  to  me, 
and  even  when  autumn  arrived,  and  there  was 
a  fire  in  the  great  hall,  I  could  not  say  that  I 
had  fully  explored  and  examined  my  home 
and  its  contents.  I  had  had  a  few  bachelor 
friends  to  visit  me,  but  for  the  greater  part  of 
the  time  I  had  lived  alone.  I  liked  company, 
and  expected  to  have  people  about  me,  but 
so  long  as  the  novelty  of  my  new  possessions 


THE  ORE  AT  STAIRCASE  365 

and  my  new  position  continued  I  was  company 
enough  for  myself. 

At  last  the  holiday  season  came  around,  and 
I  was  still  alone.  I  had  invited  a  family  of 
old  friends  to  come  and  make  the  house  lively 
and  joyous,  but  they  had  been  prevented  from 
doing  so.  I  afterward  thought  of  asking  some 
of  my  neighbors  to  eat  their  Christmas  dinner 
in  the  old  house,  but  I  found  that  they  all  had 
ties  and  obligations  of  their  own  with  which 
I  should  not  seek  to  interfere.  And  thus  it 
happened  that  late  on  Christmas  eve  I  sat  by 
myself  before  a  blazing  fire  in  the  hall,  quietly 
smoking  my  pipe.  The  servants  were  all  in 
bed,  and  the  house  was  as  quiet  as  if  it  con- 
tained no  living  being. 

For  the  first  time  since  I  lived  in  that  house 
I  began  to  feel  lonely,  and  I  could  not  help 
smiling  when  I  thought  that  there  was  no  need 
of  my  feeling  lonely  if  I  wished  it  otherwise. 
For  several  years  I  had  known  that  there  were 
mothers  in  this  country,  and  even  in  other 
countries,  who  had  the  welfare  of  their  daugh- 
ters at  heart,  and  who  had  not  failed  to  let  me 
know  the  fact;  I  had  also  known  that  there 
were  young  women,  without  mothers,  who  had 
their  own  welfare  at  heart,  and  to  whom  a 


366  THE  GREAT  STAIRCASE 

young  man  of  fortune  was  an  object  of  inter- 
est; but  there  was  nothing  in  these  recollec- 
tions which  interested  me  in  these  lonely  mo- 
ments. 

The  great  clock  on  the  landing-place  began 
to  strike,  and  I  counted  stroke  after  stroke; 
when  there  were  twelve  I  turned  to  see 
whether  I  had  made  a  mistake,  and  if  it  were 
now  really  Christmas  day.  But  before  my 
eyes  had  reached  the  face  of  the  clock  I  saw 
that  I  was  mistaken  in  supposing  myself  alone. 
At  the  top  of  the  broad  flight  of  stairs  there 
stood  a  lady. 

I  pushed  back  my  chair  and  started  to  my 
feet.  I  know  my  mouth  was  open  and  my 
eyes  staring.  I  could  not  speak;  I  doubt  if  I 
breathed. 

Slowly  the  lady  descended  the  stairs.  There 
were  two  tall  lamps  on  the  newel-posts,  so  that 
I  could  see  her  distinctly.  She  was  young,  and 
she  moved  with  the  grace  of  perfect  health. 
Her  gown  was  of  an  olden  fashion,  and  her 
hair  was  dressed  in  the  style  of  our  ancestors. 
Her  attire  was  simple  and  elegant,  but  it  was 
evident  that  she  was  dressed  for  a  festive  oc- 
casion. 

Down  she  came,  step  by  step,  and  I  stood 


MR.   MARCHMAY    TOOK   DINNER   WITH   ME   AT    THE   INN. 


TEE  GREAT  STAIRCASE  367 

gazing,  not  only  with  my  eyes,  but,  I  may  say, 
with  my  whole  heart.  I  had  never  seen  such 
grace ;  I  had  never  seen  such  beauty. 

She  reached  the  floor,  and  advanced  a  few 
steps  toward  me ;  then  she  stopped.  She  fixed 
her  large  eyes  upon  me  for  a  moment,  and  then 
turned  them  away.  She  gazed  at  the  fire,  the 
walls,  the  ceiling,  and  the  floor.  There  came 
upon  her  lovely  features  an  almost  impercep- 
tible smile,  as  though  it  gave  her  pleasure  thus 
to  stand  and  look  about  her. 

As  for  me,  I  was  simply  entranced.  Vision 
or  no  vision,  spirit  from  another  world  or  sim- 
.  ply  a  mist  of  fancy,  it  mattered  not. 

She  approached  a  few  steps  nearer,  and  fixed 
her  eyes  upon  mine.  I  trembled  as  I  .stood. 
Involuntarily  the  wish  of  my  heart-  came  to 
my  lips.  "  If—  "  I  exclaimed. 

"  If  what?  "  she  asked,  quickly. 

I  was  startled  by  the  voice.  It  was  rich,  it 
was  sweet,  but  there  was  something  in  its  in- 
tonation which  suggested  the  olden  time.  I 
cannot  explain  it.  It  was  like  the  perfume 
from  an  ancient  wardrobe  opened  a  hundred 
years  after  a  great-grandmother  had  closed 
and  locked  it,  when  even  the  scent  of  rose  and 
lavender  was  only  the  spirit  of  something  gone. 


368  TEE  GREAT  STAIRCASE 

"  Oh,  if  you  were  but  real!  "  I  said. 

She  smiled,  but  made  no  reply.  Slowly  she 
passed  around  the  great  hall,  coming  so  near 
me  at  one  time  that  I  could  almost  have 
touched  her.  She  looked  up  at  the  portraits, 
stopping  before  some  old  candlesticks  upon  a 
bracket,  apparently  examining  everything 
with  as  much  pleasure  as  I  had  looked  upon 
them  when  first  they  became  mine. 

When  she  had  made  the  circuit  of  the  hall, 
she  stood  as  if  reflecting.  Fearful  that  she 
might  disappear,  and  knowing  that  a  spirit 
must  be  addressed  if  one  would  hear  it  speak, 
I  stepped  toward  her.  I  had  intended  to  ask 
her  if  she  were,  or  rather  ever  had  been,  the 
lady  of  this  house,  why  she  came,  and  if  she 
bore  a  message,  but  in  my  excitement  and  in- 
fatuation I  forgot  my  purpose;  I  simply  re- 
peated my  former  words — "  Oh,  if  you  were 
but  real!" 

"  Why  do  you  say  that?  "  she  asked,  with  a 
little  gentle  petulance.  "  I  am  not  real,  as  you 
must  know.  Shall  I  tell  you  who  I  was,  and 
why  I  am  here?  " 

I  implored  her  to  do  so.  She  drew  a  little 
nearer  the  fire.  "  It  is  so  bright  and  cheer- 
ful," she  said.  "  It  is  many,  many  years  since 


THE  GREAT  STAIRCASE  369 

I  have  seen  a  fire  in  this  hall.  The  old  people 
who  lived  in  this  house  so  long  never  built  a 
fire  here — at  least  on  Christmas  eve." 

I  felt  inclined  to  draw  up  a  chair  and  ask 
her  to  sit  down,  but  why  need  a  ghost  sit?  I 
was  afraid  of  making  some  mistake.  I  stood 
as  near  her  as  I  dared,  eagerly  ready  to  listen. 

"  I  was  mistress  of  this  house,"  she  said. 
"  That  was  a  long,  long  time  ago.  You  can 
see  my  portrait  hanging  there." 

I  bowed.  I  could  not  say  that  it  was  her 
portrait.  An  hour  before,  I  had  looked  upon 
it  as  a  fine  picture;  now  it  seemed  to  be  the 
travesty  of  a  woman  beyond  the  reach  of  pig- 
ments and  canvas. 

"  I  died,"  she  continued,  "  when  I  was  but 
twenty-five,  and  but  four  years  married.  I 
had  a  little  girl  three  years  old,  and  the  very 
day  before  I  left  this  world  I  led  her  around 
this  hall  and  tried  to  make  her  understand 
the  pictures.  That  is  her  portrait  on  this  other 
wall." 

I  turned,  and  following  the  direction  of  her 
graceful  hand  my  eyes  fell  upon  the  picture 
of  an  elderly  lady  with  silvered  hair  and  be- 
nignant countenance. 

"  Your  daughter?  "  I  gasped. 


370  THE  GREAT  STAIRCASE 

"  Yes,"  she  answered ;  "  slie  lived  many 
years  after  my  death.  Over  there,  nearer  the 
door,  you  may  see  the  picture  of  her  daughter 
— the  plump  young  girl  with  the  plumed  hat." 

Now,  to  my  great  surprise,  she  asked  me 
to  take  a  seat.  "  It  seems  ungracious,"  she  re- 
marked, "  that  in  my  own  house  I  should  be  so 
inhospitable  as  to  keep  you  standing.  And 
yet  it  is  not  my  house;  it  is  yours." 

Obedient  to  her  command,  for  such  I  felt 
it  to  be,  I  resumed  my  seat,  and  to  my  delight 
she  took  a  chair  not  far  from  me.  Seated,  she 
seemed  more  graceful  and  lovely  than  when 
she  stood.  Her  shapely  hands  lay  in  her  lap; 
soft  lace  fell  over  them,  like  tender  mist  upon 
a  cloud.  As  she  looked  at  me  her  eyes  were 
raised. 

"  Does  it  distress  you  that  this  house  should 
now  be  mine  ?  "  I  asked. 

"  Oh,  no,  no,"  she  answered,  with  anima- 
tion; "  I  am  very  glad  of  it.  The  elderly 
couple  who  lived  here  before  you  were  not  to 
my  liking.  Once  a  year,  on  Christmas  eve, 
I  am  privileged  to  spend  one  hour  in  this 
house,  and,  although  I  have  never  failed  to  be 
here  at  the  appointed  time,  it  has  been  years, 
as  I  told  you,  since  I  saw  a  fire  on  that  hearth 


THE  GREAT  STAIRCASE  371 

and  a  living  being  in  this  hall.  I  knew  you 
were  here,  and  I  am  very  glad  of  it.  It  pleases 
me  greatly  that  one  is  living  here  who  prizes 
this  old  place  as  I  once  prized  it.  This  man- 
sion was  built  for  me  by  my  husband,  upon 
the  site  of  a  smaller  house,  which  he  removed. 
The  grounds  about  it,  which  I  thought  so 
lovely,  are  far  more  lovely  now.  For  four 
years  I  lived  here  in  perfect  happiness,  and 
now  one  hour  each  year  something  of  that  hap- 
piness is  renewed." 

Ordinarily  I  have  good  control  of  my  ac- 
tions and  of  my  emotions,  but  at  this  moment 
I  seemed  to  have  lost  all  power  over  myself; 
my  thoughts  ran  wild.  To  my  amazement,  I 
became  conscious  that  I  was  falling  in  love — 
in  love  with  something  which  did  not  exist ;  in 
love  with  a  woman  who  once  had  been.  It  was 
absurd;  it  was  ridiculous;  but  there  was  no 
power  within  me  which  could  prevent  it. 

After  all,  this  rapidly  growing  passion  was 
not  altogether  absurd.  She  was  an  ideal  .which 
far  surpassed  any  ideal  I  had  ever  formed  for 
the  mistress  of  my  home.  More  than  that,  she 
had  really  been  the  mistress  of  this  house, 
which  was  now  my  home.  Here  was  a  vision 
of  the  past,  fully  revealed  to  my  eyes.  As  the 


372  THE  GREAT  STAIRCASE 

sweet  voice  fell  upon  my  ears,  how  could  I 
help  looking  upon  it  as  something  real,  listen- 
ing to  it  as  something  real,  and  loving  it  as 
something  real. 

I  think  she  perceived  my  agitation;  she 
looked  upon  me  wonderingly. 

"  I  hoped  very  much,"  she  said,  "  that  you 
would  be  in  this  hall  when  I  should  come  down 
to-night,  but  I  feared  that  I  should  disturb 
you,  that  perhaps  I  might  startle  or " 

I  could  not  restrain  myself.  I  rose  and  in- 
terrupted her  with  passionate  earnestness. 

"  Startle  or  trouble  me !  "  I  exclaimed. 
"  Oh,  gracious  lady,  you  have  done  but  one 
thing  to  me  to-night — you  have  made  me  love 
you!  Pardon  me;  I  cannot  help  it.  Do  not 
speak  of  impossibilities,  of  passionate  ravings, 
of  unmeaning  words.  Lady,  I  love  you;  I 
may  not  love  you  as  you  are,  but  I  love  you 
as  you  were.  ~No  happiness  on  earth  could 
equal  that  of  seeing  you  real — the  mistress  of 
this  house,  and  myself  the  master." 

She  rose,  drew  back  a  little,  and  stood  look- 
ing at  me.  If  she  had  been  true  flesh  and 
blood  she  could  not  have  acted  more  naturally. 

For  some  moments  there  was  silence,  and 
then  a  terrible  thought  came  into  my  head, 


THE  GREAT  STAIRCASE  373 

Had  I  a  right  to  speak  to  her  thus,  even  if  she 
were  but  the  vision  of  something  that  had 
been?  She  had  told  me  of  her  husband;  she 
had  spoken  of  her  daughter;  but  she  had  said 
no  word  which  would  give  me  reason  to  be- 
lieve that  little  girl  was  fatherless  when  her 
mother  led  her  around  the  hall  and  explained 
to  her  the  family  portraits.  Had  I  been  ad- 
dressing my  wild  words  of  passion  to  one  whose 
beauty  and  grace,  when  they  were  real  and 
true,  belonged  to  another?  Had  I  spoken  as 
I  should  not  have  spoken,  even  to  the  vision  of 
a  well-loved  wife?  I  trembled  with  appre- 
hension. 

"  Pardon  me,"  I  said,  "  if  I  have  been  im- 
prudent. Remember  that  I  know  so  little 
about  you,  even  as  you  were." 

When  she  answered  there  was  nothing  of 
anger  in  her  tone,  but  she  spoke  softly,  and 
with,  I  thought,  a  shade  of  pity. 

"  You  have  said  nothing  to  offend  me,  but 
every  word  you  have  spoken  has  been  so  wild 
and  so  far  removed  from  sense  and  reason  that 
I  am  unable  to  comprehend  your  feelings." 

"  They  are  easy  to  understand !  "  I  ex- 
claimed. "  I  have  seen  my  ideal  of  the  woman 
I  could  love.  I  love  you;  that  is  all!  Again 


374:  THE  GREAT  STAIRCASE 

I  say  it,  and  I  say  it  with  all  my  heart:  Would 
you  were  real !  Would  you  were  real !  " 

She  smiled.  I  am  sure  now  she  understood 
my  passion.  I  am  sure  she  expected  it.  I  am 
sure  that  she  pitied  me. 

Suddenly  a  change  of  expression  came  over 
her  face;  a  beaming  interest  shone  from  her 
eyes;  she  took  some  steps  toward  me. 

"  I  told  you,"  said  she,  speaking  quickly, 
"  that  what  you  have  said  seems  to  be  without 
sense  or  reason,  and  yet  it  may  mean  some- 
thing. I  assure  you  that  your  words  have  been 
appreciated.  I  know  that  each  one  of  them  is 
true  and  comes  from  your  heart.  And  now 

listen  to  me  while  I  tell  you "  At  that 

moment  the  infernal  clock  upon  the  landing- 
place  struck  one.  It  was  like  the  crash  of 
doom.  I  stood  alone  in  the  great  hall. 

The  domestics  in  that  old  house  supposed 
that  I  spent  Christmas  day  alone;  but  they 
were  mistaken,  for  wherever  I  went  my  fancy 
pictured  near  me  the  beautiful  vision  of  the 
night  before.  She  walked  with  me  in  the  crisp 
morning  air;  I  led  her  through  the  quiet  old 
rooms,  and  together  we  went  up  the  great  stair- 
case and  stood  before  the  clock — the  clock 
that  I  had  blessed  for  striking  twelve  and 


THE  GREAT  STAIRCASE  375 

cursed  for  striking  one.  At  dinner  she  sat 
opposite  me  in  a  great  chair  which  I  had  had 
placed  there — "  for  the  sake  of  symmetry,"  as 
I  told  my  servants.  After  what  had  happened, 
it  was  impossible  for  me  to  be  alone. 

The  day  after  Christmas  old  Mr.  Marchmay 
came  to  call  upon  me.  He  was  so  sorry  that  I 
had  been  obliged  to  spend  Christmas  day  all 
by  myself.  I  fairly  laughed  as  I  listened  to 
him. 

There  were  things  I  wanted  him  to  tell 
me  if  he  could,  and  I  plied  him  with  ques- 
tions. I  pointed  to  the  portrait  of  the  lady 
near  the  chimney-piece,  and  asked  him  who 
she  was. 

"  That  is  Mrs.  Evelyn  Heatherton,  first  mis- 
tress of  this  house;  I  have  heard  a  good  deal 
about  her.  She  was  very  unfortunate.  She 
lost  her  life  here  in  this  hall  on  Christmas  eve. 
She  was  young  and  beautiful,  and  must  have 
looked  a  good  deal  like  that  picture." 

I  forgot  myself.  "  I  don't  believe  it,"  I 
said.  "  It  does  not  seem  to  me  that  that  por- 
trait could  have  been  a  good  likeness  of  the  real 
woman." 

"  You  may  know  more  about  art  than  I  do, 
sir,"  said  he.  "  It  has  always  been  considered 


376  THE  GREAT  STAIRCASE 

a  fine  picture;  but  of  course  she  lived  before 
my  time.  As  I  was  saying,  she  died  here  in 
this  hall.  She  was  coming  down  stairs  on 
Christmas  eve ;  there  were  a  lot  of  people  here 
in  the  hall  waiting  to  meet  her.  She  stepped 
on  something  on  one  of  the  top  steps — a  child's 
toy,  perhaps — and  lost  her  footing.  She  fell 
to  the  bottom  and  was  instantly  killed — killed 
in  the  midst  of  youth,  health,  and  beauty." 

"  And  her  husband,"  I  remarked,  "  was 
he— 

"  Oh,  he  was  dead!  "  interrupted  Mr. 
Marchmay.  "  He  died  when  his  daughter  was 
but  a  mere  baby.  By  the  way,"  said  the  old 
gentleman,  "  it  seems  rather  funny  that  the 
painting  over  there — that  old  lady  with  the 
gray  hair — is  the  portrait  of  that  child.  It  is 
the  only  one  there  is,  I  suppose." 

I  did  not  attend  to  these  last  words.  My 
face  must  have  glowed  with  delight  as  I 
thought  that  I  had  not  spoken  to  her  as  I 
should  not.  If  I  had  known  her  to  be  real, 
I  might  have  said  everything  which  I  had  said 
to  the  vision  of  what  she  had  been. 

The  old  man  went  on  talking  about  the  fam- 
ily. That  sort  of  thing  interested  him  very 
much,  and  he  said  that,  as  I  owned  the  house, 


THE  GREAT  STAIRCASE  377 

I  ought  to  know  everything  about  the  people 
who  formerly  lived  there.  The  Heathertons 
had  not  been  fortunate.  They  had  lost  a  great 
deal  of  money,  and,  some  thirty  years  before, 
the  estate  had  passed  out  of  their  hands  and 
had  been  bought  by  a  Mr.  Kennard,  a  distant 
connection  of  the  family,  who,  with  his  wife, 
had  lived  there  until  very  recently.  It  was  to 
a  nephew  and  niece  of  old  Mr.  Kennard  that 
the  property  had  descended.  The  Heathertons 
had  nothing  more  to  do  with  it. 

"  Are  there  any  members  of  the  family 
left?  "I  asked. 

"  Oh  yes!  "  said  Mr.  Marchmay.  "  Do  you 
see  that  portrait  of  a  girl  with  a  feather  in  her 
hat?  She  is  a  granddaughter  of  that  Evelyn 
Heatherton  up  there.  She  is  an  old  woman 
now  and  a  widow,  and  she  it  was  who  sold  the 
place  to  the  Kennards.  When  the  mortgages 
were  paid  she  did  not  have  much  left,  but  she 
manages  to  live  on  it.  But  I  tell  you  what  you 
ought  to  do,  sir:  you  ought  to  go  to  see  her. 
She  can  tell  you  lots  of  stories  of  this  place, 
for  she  knows  more  about  the  Heathertons 
than  anyone  living.  She  married  a  distant 
cousin,  who  had  the  family  name ;  but  he  was 
a  poor  sort  of  a  fellow,  and  he  died  some  fif- 


378  THE  GREAT  STAIRCASE 

teen  years  ago.  She  has  talked  to  me  about 
your  having  the  old  house,  and  she  said  that 
she  hoped  you  would  not  make  changes  and 
tear  down  things.  But  of  course  she  would 
not  say  anything  like  that  to  you;  she  is  a 
lady  who  attends  to  her  own  business." 

"Where  does  she  live?"  I  asked.  "I 
should  like,  above  all  things,  to  go  and  talk 
to  her." 

"  It  is  the  third  house  beyond  the  church," 
said  Mr.  Marchmay.  "  I  am  sure  she  will 
be  glad  to  see  you.  If  you  can  make  up  your 
mind  to  listen  to  long  stories  about  the  Heath- 
ertons  you  will  give  her  pleasure." 

The  next  day  I  made  the  call.  The  house 
was  neat,  but  small  and  unpretentious — a  great 
drop  from  the  fine  hall  I  now  possessed. 

The  servant  informed  me  that  Mrs.  Heath- 
erton  was  at  home,  and  I  was  shown  into  the 
little  parlor — light,  warm,  and  pleasantly 
furnished.  In  a  few  minutes  the  door  opened, 
and  I  rose,  but  no  old  lady  entered. 

Struck  dumb  by  breathless  amazement,  I 
beheld  Evelyn  Heatherton  coming  into  the 
room! 

I  could  not  understand;  my  thoughts  ran 
wild.  Had  someone  been  masquerading? 


THE  GREAT  STAIRCASE  379 

Had  I  dreamed  on  Christmas  eve,  or  was  I 
dreaming  now?  Had  my  passionate  desire 
been  granted?  Had  that  vision  become 
real?  I  was  instantly  convinced  that  what  I 
saw  before  me  was  true  and  real,  for  the  lady 
advanced  toward  me  and  held  out  her  hand. 
I  took  it,  and  it  was  the  hand  of  an  actual 
woman. 

Her  mother,  she  said,  begged  that  I  would 
excuse  her;  she  was  not  well  and  was  lying 
down.  Mr.  Marchmay  had  told  them  that  I 
was  coming,  and  that  I  wanted  to  know  some- 
thing about  the  old  house ;  perhaps  she  might 
be  able  to  give  me  a  little  information. 

Almost  speechless,  I  sat  down,  and  she  took 
a  chair  not  far  from  me.  Her  position  was 
exactly  that  which  had  been  taken  by  the  vis- 
ion of  her  great-grandmother  on  Christmas 
eve.  Her  hands  were  crossed  in  her  lap,  and 
her  large  blue  eyes  were  slightly  upraised  to 
mine.  She  was  not  dressed  in  a  robe  of  olden 
days,  nor  was  her  hair  piled  up  high  on  her 
head  in  by-gone  fashion,  but  she  was  Evelyn 
Heatherton,  in  form  and  feature  and  in  quiet 
grace.  She  was  some  years  younger,  and  she 
lacked  the  dignity  of  a  woman  who  had  been 
married,  but  she  was  no  stranger  to  me;  I  had 
seen  her  before. 


380  THE  GREAT  STAIRCASE 

Encouraged  by  my  rapt  attention,  she  told 
me  stories  of  the  old  house  where  her  mother 
had  been  born,  and  all  that  she  knew  of  her 
great-grandmother  she  related  with  an  interest 
that  was  almost  akin  to  mine.  "  People  tell 
me,"  she  said,  "  that  I  am  growing  to  look  like 
her,  and  I  am  glad  of  it,  for  my  mother  gave 
me  her  name." 

I  sat  and  listened  to  the  voice  of  this  beauti- 
ful girl,  as  I  had  listened  to  the  words  which 
had  been  spoken  to  me  by  the  vision  of  her 
ancestress.  If  I  had  not  known  that  she  was 
real,  and  that  there  was  no  reason  why  she 
should  vanish  when  the  clock  should  strike,  I 
might  have  spoken  as  I  spoke  to  her  great- 
grandmother.  I  remained  entranced,  en- 
raptured, and  it  was  only  when  the  room  be- 
gan to  grow  dark  that  I  was  reminded  that  it 
was  incumbent  upon  me  to  go. 

But  I  went  again,  again,  and  again,  and  af- 
ter a  time  it  so  happened  that  I  was  in  that 
cottage  at  least  once  every  day.  The  old  lady 
was  very  gracious;  it  was  plain  enough  that 
her  soul  was  greatly  gratified  to  know  that  the 
present  owner  of  her  old  home — the  house  in 
which  she  had  been  born — was  one  who  de- 
lighted to  hear  the  family  stories,  and  who 
respected  all  their  traditions. 


THE  GREAT  STAIRCASE  381 

I  need  not  tell  the  story  of  Evelyn  and  my- 
self. My  heart  had  been  filled  with  a  vision 
of  her  personality  before  I  had  seen  her.  At 
the  first  moment  of  our  meeting  my  love  for 
her  sprung  into  existence  as  the  flame  bursts 
from  a  match.  And  she  could  not  help  but 
love  me.  Few  women,  certainly  not  Evelyn 
Heatherton,  could  resist  the  passionate  affec- 
tion I  offered  her.  She  did  not  tell  me  this 
in  words,  but  it  was  not  long  before  I  came 
to  believe  it. 

It  was  one  afternoon  in  spring  that  old  Mrs. 
Heatherton  and  her  daughter  came  to  visit 
me  in  my  house — the  home  of  their  ancestors. 
As  I  walked  with  them  through  the  halls  and 
rooms  I  felt  as  if  they  were  the  ladies  of  the 
manor,  and  that  I  was  the  recipient  of  their 
kind  hospitality. 

Mrs.  Heatherton  was  in  the  dining-room, 
earnestly  examining  some  of  the  ancestral 
china  and  glass,  and  Evelyn  and  I  stood  to- 
gether in  the  hall,  almost  under  the  portrait 
which  hung  near  the  chimney-piece.  She  had 
been  talking  of  the  love  and  reverence  she  felt 
for  this  old  house.  "  Evelyn,"  said  I,  "  if  you 
love  this  house  and  all  that  is  in  it,  will  you 
not  take  it,  and  have  it  for  your  own?  And 


382  THE  GREAT  STAIRCASE 

will  you  not  take  me  and  love  me,  and  have 
me  for  jour  own  ?  " 

I  had  my  answer  before  the  old  lady  came 
out  of  the  dining-room.  She  was  reading  the 
inscription  on  an  old  silver  loving-cup  when 
we  went  in  to  her  and  told  her  that  again 
Evelyn  Heatherton  was  to  be  the  mistress  of 
the  old  mansion. 

We  were  married  in  the  early  winter,  and 
after  a  journey  in  the  South  we  came  back 
to  the  old  house,  for  I  had  a  great  desire  that 
we  should  spend  the  holidays  under  its  roof. 

It  was  Christmas  eve,  and  we  stood  together 
in  the  great  hall,  with  a  fire  burning  upon  the 
hearth  as  it  had  glowed  and  crackled  a  year 
before.  It  was  some  minutes  before  twelve, 
and,  purposely,  I  threw  my  arms  around  my 
dear  wife  and  turned  her  so  that  she  stood  with 
her  back  to  the  great  staircase.  I  had  never 
told  her  of  the  vision  I  had  seen ;  I  feared  to 
do  so;  I  did  not  know  what  effect  it  might 
have  upon  her.  I  cared  for  her  so  earnestly 
and  tenderly  that  I  would  risk  nothing,  but  I 
felt  that  I  must  stand  with  her  in  that  hall  on 
that  Christmas  eve,  and  I  believed  that  I  could 
do  so  without  fear  or  self-reproach. 

The  clock  struck  twelve.     "  Look  up  at 


TEE  GREAT  STAIRCASE  383 

your  great-grandmother,  Evelyn,"  I  said;  "  it 
is  fit  that  you  should  do  so  at  this  time."  In 
obedience  to  my  wishes  her  eyes  were  fixed 
upon  the  old  portrait,  and,  at  the  same  time, 
looking  over  her  shoulder,  my  eyes  fell  upon 
the  vision  of  the  first  Evelyn  Heatherton  de- 
scending the  stairs.  Upon  her  features  was  a 
gentle  smile  of  welcome  and  of  pleasure.  So 
she  must  have  looked  when  she  went  out  of 
this  world  in  health  and  strength  and  womanly 
bloom. 

The  vision  reached  the  bottom  of  the  stairs 
and  came  toward  us.  I  stood  expectant,  my 
eyes  fixed  upon  her  noble  countenance. 

"  It  seems  to  me,"  said  my  Evelyn,  "  as  if 
my  great-grandmother  really  looked  down 
upon  us;  as  if  it  made  her  happy  to  think 

TllflT 

"  Is  this  what  you  meant? "  said  I,  speak- 
ing to  the  lovely  vision,  now  so  near  us. 

"  Yes,"  was  the  answer;  "it  is  what  I 
meant,  and  I  am  rejoiced.  I  bless  you  and 
I  love  you  both,"  and  as  she  spoke  two  fair 
and  shadowy  hands  were  extended  over  our 
heads.  No  one  can  hear  the  voice  of  a  spirit 
except  those  to  whom  it  speaks,  and  my  wife 
thought  that  my  words  had  been  addressed  to 
her. 


384  THE  GREAT  STAIRCASE 

"  Yes,"  said  my  Evelyn;  "  I  mean  that  we 
should  be  standing  here  in  her  old  home,  and 
that  your  arm  should  be  around  me." 

I  looked  again.  There  was  no. one  in  the 
hall,  except  my  Evelyn  and  myself. 


THE  GHOSTS  IN  MY  TOWER 


THE  GHOSTS  IN  MY  TOWER 

AT  one  corner  of  the  house  I  once  lived  in 
is  a  tall,  wide  tower,  rising  high  above 
the  trees  which  surround  it.  In  one  of  the 
upper  rooms  of  this  tower  I  worked  and 
thought,  and  here,  in  the  evening  and  early 
part  of  the  night,  I  used  to  be  quite  alone,  ex- 
cept for  the  ghosts. 

Before  I  had  come  to  this  house  I  knew 
that  the  tower  was  haunted,  but  I  did  not  mind 
that.  As  the  ghosts  had  never  done  anyone 
any  harm  I  did  not  believe  they  would  do  me 
any  harm,  and  I  thought  I  should  really  be 
glad  of  their  company,  which  must  certainly 
be  different  from  the  company  of  ordinary 
people.  So,  when  I  had  arranged  an  upper 
room  in  the  tower  so  that  I  might  pleasantly 
work  and  think  therein,  I  expected  the  ghosts 
to  come  to  me,  and  should  have  been  very 
much  disappointed  if  they  had  not. 

I  did  not  exactly  understand  these  ghosts, 
387 


388          THE  GHOSTS  IN  MY  TOWER 

of  which  I  had  heard  nothing  definite,  except 
that  they  haunted  the  tower,  and  I  did  not 
know  in  what  way  they  would  manifest  them- 
selves to  me.  It  was  not  long,  however,  after 
I  had  begun  to  occupy  the  room,  before  the 
ghosts  came  to  me.  One  evening,  a  little  be- 
fore Christmas,  after  everybody  in  the  house 
but  myself  had  gone  to  bed,  and  all  was  quiet, 
outside  and  inside,  I  heard  a  knock,  and  was 
on  the  point  of  saying,  "  Come  in !  "  when  the 
knock  was  repeated  and  I  found  that  it  did 
not  come  from  the  door,  but  from  the  wall.  I 
smiled. 

"  You  cannot  come  in  that  way,"  I  thought, 
"  unless  there  are  secret  doors  in  these  walls, 
and  even  then  you  must  open  them  for  your- 
self." 

I  went  on  with  my  writing,  but  I  soon 
looked  up  again,  for  I  thought  I  heard  a  chair 
gently  pushed  back  against  the  wall  in  a  cor- 
ner behind  me,  and,  almost  immediately,  I 
heard  a  noise  as  if  some  little  boy  had  dropped 
a  number  of  marbles,  or  perhaps  pennies,  but 
there  was  no  chair  in  the  corner  at  which  I 
looked,  and  there  were  no  pennies  nor  marbles 
on  the  floor. 

Night  after  night  I  heard  my  ghosts — for 


THE  GHOSTS  IN  MY  TO  WEE         389 

I  had  come  to  consider  them  as  mine,  which 
I  had  bought  with  the  house — and  although  I 
could  not  see  them  there  were  so  many  ways 
in  which  they  let  me  know  they  existed  that 
I  felt  for  them  a  sort  of  companionship. 
When,  in  the  quiet  hours  of  the  early  night,  I 
heard  their  gentle  knocks  I  knew  that,  were 
the  circumstances  different,  they  would  have 
been  glad  to  come  in,  and  I  did  not  feel  lonely. 

Now  and  then  I  thought  I  heard  the  voices 
ol  the  ghosts,  sometimes  outside,  under  my 
window,  and  sometimes  behind  me,  in  a  dis- 
tant corner  of  the  room.  Their  tones  were 
low  and  plaintive,  and  I  could  not  distinguish 
words  or  phrases,  but  it  often  seemed  as  if 
they  were  really  speaking  to  me,  and  that  I 
ought  to  try  to-  understand  and  to  answer 
them.  But  I  soon  discovered  that  these  voice- 
like  sounds  were  caused  by  the  vagrant  breezes 
going  up  and  down  the  tall  chimney  of  the 
tower,  making  seolian  tones,  not  of  music,  but 
of  vague  and  indistinct  speech. 

The  winter  passed,  and  at  last  there  came 
a  time  when  I  saw  one  of  the  ghosts.  It  was 
in  the  dusk  of  an  evening,  early  in  spring, 
and  just  outside  of  an  open  window,  that  it 
appeared  to  me.  It  was  as  plain  to  my  sight 


390          THE  GHOSTS  IN  MY  TOWER 

as  if  it  had  been  painted  in  delicate  half-tones 
against  a  sombre  background  of  tender  foli- 
age and  evening  sky. 

It  was  clad  from  head  to  foot  in  softest  gray, 
such  as  the  phantoms  of  the  night  are  said  to 
love,  and  over  its  shoulders  and  down  its  up- 
right form  were  thrown  the  fleecy  folds  of  a 
mantle  so  mistily  gray  that  it  seemed  to  blend 
into  the  dusky  figure  it  partly  shrouded.  The 
moment  I  saw  it  I  knew  it  saw  me.  Out  of 
its  cloudy  grayness  there  shone  two  eyes, 
black,  clear,  and  sparkling,  fixed  upon  me 
with  questioning  intensity.  I  sat,  gazing,  with 
checked  breath,  at  this  ghost  of  the  tower. 

Suddenly  I  leaned  forward — just  a  little — • 
to  get  a  better  view  of  the  apparition,  when, 
like  a  bursting  bubble,  it  was  gone,  and  there 
was  nothing  before  me  but  the  background  of 
foliage  and  evening  sky. 

Frequently  after  that  I  saw  this  ghost,  or 
it  may  have  been  one  of  the  others,  for  it  was 
difficult,  with  these  gray  visions,  with  which 
one  must  not  speak  or  toward  which  it  was 
hazardous  to  move  even  a  hand,  to  become  so 
well  acquainted  that  I  should  know  one  from 
another.  But  there  they  were;  not  only  did 
I  hear  them;  not  only,  night  after  night,  did 


THE  GHOSTS  IN  MY  TOWER         391 

my  ears  assure  me  of  their  existence,  but  in  the 
shadows  of  the  trees,  as  the  summer  came  on, 
and  on  the  lonelier  stretches  of  the  lawn  I 
saw  them,  and  I  knew  that  in  good  truth  my 
home  was  haunted. 

Late  one  afternoon,  while  walking  in  my 
grounds,  I  saw  before  me  one  of  the  spectres 
of  my  tower.  It  moved  slowly  over  the  lawn, 
scarcely  seeming  to  touch  the  tips  of  the  grass, 
and  with  no  more  sound  than  a  cloud  would 
make  when  settling  on  a  hill-top.  Suddenly 
it  turned  its  bright  watchful  eyes  upon  me, 
and  then,  with  a  start  that  seemed  to  send  a 
thrill  even  through  the  gray  mantle  which 
lightly  touched  its  shoulders,  it  rose  before  my 
very  eyes  until  it  was  nearly  as  high  as  the 
top  of  my  tower! 

Wings  it  had  not  nor  did  it  float  in  the  air; 
it  ran  like  a  streak  of  gray  electricity  along 
the  lightning-rod,  only,  instead  of  flashing 
down  it,  as  electricity  would  pass  from  the 
sky,  it  ran  upward.  I  did  not  see  this  swiftly 
moving  spirit  reach  the  topmost  point  of  the 
rod,  for,  at  a  point  where  the  thick  wire  ap- 
proached the  eaves,  it  vanished. 

By  this  time  I  had  come  to  the  conclusion, 
not  altogether  pleasant  to  my  mind,  that  my 


390          THE  GHOSTS  IN  MY  TOWER 

as  if  it  had  been  painted  in  delicate  half-tones 
against  a  sombre  background  of  tender  foli- 
age and  evening  sky. 

It  was  clad  from  head  to  foot  in  softest  gray, 
such  as  the  phantoms  of  the  night  are  said  to 
love,  and  over  its  shoulders  and  down  its  up- 
right form  were  thrown  the  fleecy  folds  of  a 
mantle  so  mistily  gray  that  it  seemed  to  blend 
into  the  dusky  figure  it  partly  shrouded.  The 
moment  I  saw  it  I  knew  it  saw  me.  Out  of 
its  cloudy  grayness  there  shone  two  eyes, 
black,  clear,  and  sparkling,  fixed  upon  me 
with  questioning  intensity.  I  sat,  gazing,  with 
checked  breath,  at  this  ghost  of  the  tower. 

Suddenly  I  leaned  f  orward — just  a  little — • 
to  get  a  better  view  of  the  apparition,  when, 
like  a  bursting  bubble,  it  was  gone,  and  there 
was  nothing  before  me  but  the  background  of 
foliage  and  evening  sky. 

Frequently  after  that  I  saw  this  ghost,  or 
it  may  have  been  one  of  the  others,  for  it  was 
difficult,  with  these  gray  visions,  with  which 
one  must  not  speak  or  toward  which  it  was 
hazardous  to  move  even  a  hand,  to  become  so 
well  acquainted  that  I  should  know  one  from 
another.  But  there  they  were;  not  only  did 
I  hear  them ;  not  only,  night  after  night,  did 


THE  GHOSTS  IN  MY  TOWER         391 

my  ears  assure  me  of  their  existence,  but  in  the 
shadows  of  the  trees,  as  the  summer  came  on, 
and  on  the  lonelier  stretches  of  the  lawn  I 
saw  them,  and  I  knew  that  in  good  truth  my 
home  was  haunted. 

Late  one  afternoon,  while  walking  in  my 
grounds,  I  saw  before  me  one  of  the  spectres 
of  my  tower.  It  moved  slowly  over  the  lawn, 
scarcely  seeming  to  touch  the  tips  of  the  grass, 
and  with  no  more  sound  than  a  cloud  would 
make  when  settling  on  a  hill-top.  Suddenly 
it  turned  its  bright  watchful  eyes  upon  me, 
and  then,  with  a  start  that  seemed  to  send  a 
thrill  even  through  the  gray  mantle  which 
lightly  touched  its  shoulders,  it  rose  before  my 
very  eyes  until  it  was  nearly  as  high  as  the 
top  of  my  tower! 

Wings  it  had  not  nor  did  it  float  in  the  air; 
it  ran  like  a  streak  of  gray  electricity  along 
the  lightning-rod,  only,  instead  of  flashing 
down  it,  as  electricity  would  pass  from  the 
sky,  it  ran  upward.  I  did  not  see  this  swiftly 
moving  spirit  reach  the  topmost  point  of  the 
rod,  for,  at  a  point  where  the  thick  wire  ap- 
proached the  eaves,  it  vanished. 

By  this  time  I  had  come  to  the  conclusion, 
not  altogether  pleasant  to  my  mind,  that  my 


892         THE  GHOSTS  IN  MY  TOWER 

ghosts  were  taking  advantage  of  my  forbear- 
ance, with  their  mystic  knocks  and  signals  in 
the  night  and  their  visits  in  the  daylight,  and 
that  there  must  be  too  many  of  them  in  my 
tower.  I  must  admit  that  they  annoyed  me 
very  little,  and  I  was  not  in  the  least  afraid  of 
them,  but  there  were  others  who  came  into 
my  tower  and  who  slept  in  some  of  its  rooms, 
and  to  the  minds  of  visitors  and  timorous  maids 
there  was  something  uncanny  and  terrifying 
in  these  midnight  knocks  and  scratches. 

So,  having  concluded  from  what  I  had  seen 
that  day  that  it  was  the  very  uppermost  part 
of  the  tower  which  had  become  the  resort  of 
these  gray  sprites,  and  from  which  they  came 
to  disturb  our  quiet  and  repose,  I  determined 
to  interfere  with  their  passage  from  the  earth 
to  my  tower-top.  If,  like  an  electric  current, 
they  used  the  lightning-rod  as  a  means  of 
transit,  I  devised  a  plan  which  would  compel 
them  to  use  it  in  the  conventional  and  proper 
way.  The  rod  was  placed  there  that  lightning 
might  come  down  it,  not  that  it  might  go 
up,  so  I  set  myself  to  put  the  rod  in  a  condition 
that  would  permit  the  ghosts  to  descend  as  the 
lightning  did,  but  which  would  prevent  them 
from  going  up. 


THE  GHOSTS  IN  MY  TOWER         393 

Accordingly  I  thoroughly  greased  the  rod 
for  a  considerable  distance  above  the  ground. 

"  Now,"  said  I  to  myself,  "  you  may  all 
come  down,  one  after  the  other,  whenever 
you  like.  You  will  descend  very  quickly 
when  you  reach  the  greased  part  of  the  rod, 
but  you  will  not  go  up  it  again.  You  are  get- 
ting very  bold,  and  if  you  continue  your  mad 
revels  in  my  tower  you  will  frighten  people, 
and  give  my  house  a  bad  name.  You  may 
become  dryads  if  you  like  and  shut  your- 
selves up  in  the  hearts  of  the  tall  and  solemn 
oaks.  There  you  may  haunt  the  bluejays  and 
the  woodpeckers,  but  they  will  not  tell  tales 
of  ghostly  visits  which  may  keep  my  friends 
away  and  make  my  servants  give  me  warning." 

After  that  there  were  no  more  gray  flashes 
up  my  lightning-rod,  though  how  many  came 
down  it  I  know  not,  and  the  intramural  revels 
in  the  tower  ceased.  But  not  for  long.  The 
ghosts  came  back  again ;  perhaps  not  so  many 
as  before,  but  still  enough  of  them  to  let  me 
know  that  they  -were  there. 

How  they  ascended  to  their  lofty  haunts  I 
could  not  tell,  nor  did  I  try  to  find  out.  I 
accepted  the  situation.  I  could  not  contend 
with  these  undaunted  sprites. 


394          THE  GHOSTS  IN  MY  TOWER 

One  evening,  in  the  autumn,  outside  the 
same  window  from  which  I  had  seen  the  first 
ghost  of  the  tower,  I  saw  another  apparition, 
but  it  was  not  one  of  the  gray  spectres  to 
which  I  had  become  accustomed.  It  was  a  jet- 
black  demon.  Its  eyes,  large,  green,  and  glar- 
ing, shone  upon  me,  and  it  was  as  motionless 
and  dark  as  a  statue  cut  in  coal. 

For  only  an  instant  I  saw  it,  and  then  in  a 
flash,  like  the  apparition  I  had  first  seen  from 
that  window,  it  disappeared.  After  that,  I 
saw  the  demon  again  and  again,  and  strange 
to  say  the  ghosts  in  my  tower  became  fewer 
and  fewer,  and  at  last  they  disappeared  alto- 
gether. The  advent  of  the  black  spirit  seemed 
to  have  exerted  an  evil  influence  over  the 
sprites  in  gray,  and,  like  the  Indian  in  the 
presence  of  the  white  man,  they  faded  away 
and  gradually  became  extinct. 

The  last  time  I  saw  one  of  my  ghosts  it  ap- 
peared to  me  late  on  a  November  afternoon, 
among  the  brown  foliage  of  an  aged  oak,  just 
as  a  dryad  might  have  peeped  forth  from  her 
leafy  retreat,  wondering  if  the  world  were  yet 
open  to  her  for  a  ramble  under  the  stars.  The 
world  was  open  to  my  gray  ghost,  but  only  in 
one  direction.  Between  it  and  me  could  be 


THE  GHOSTS  IN  MY  TOWER         395 

seen,  among  the  shadows  of  the  ground,  the 
dark  form  of  the  demon,  trembling  and  wait- 
ing. Then  away  from  the  old  oak,  away  from 
my  house  and  my  tower,  along  the  limbs  of 
trees  which  stood  on  the  edge  of  the  wood, 
slowly  and  silently,  my  ghost  vanished  from 
my  view  like  a  little  gray  cloud,  gently  moving 
over  the  sky,  at  last  dissolving  out  of  my  sight. 
Now,  in  the  early  hours  of  the  night  my 
tower  is  quiet  and  still.  There  are  no  more 
knocks,  no  more  wild  revels  in  the  hidden  pas- 
sages of  the  walls.  My  ghosts  are  gone.  All 
•:hat  I  hear  now  are  the  voices  in  the  chimney, 
but  I  know  that  these  are  only  imaginary 
voices,  and,  therefore,  they  produce  in  me  no 
feeling  of  companionship.  But  my  ghosts 
really  existed. 


THE  LANDSMAN'S  TALE 


THE  LANDSMAN'S  TALE 


a  little  town  on  the  New  England  coast 
1  there  came  one  day  in  mild  October 
weather  a  quiet  man  without  an  object;  at 
least,  this  was  the  opinion  of  the  villagers. 

This  opinion  was  not  formed  until  the 
stranger  had  lived  for  five  or  six  days  in  their 
midst,  having  lodgings  at  the  inn,  but  spend- 
ing his  days  and  even  parts  of  his  evenings 
in  the  open  air;  sometimes  in  the  village 
streets,  sometimes  in  the  surrounding  country, 
and  v%ery  often  on  the  sands  and  among  the 
rocks  of  the  ocean  beach. 

It  was  his  manner  of  spending  his  time 
which  proved  that  he  was  a  man  without  an 
object.  At  first  it  was  supposed  that  he  was 
an  artist  —  so  many  wandering  strangers  are 
artists;  but  he  never  sketched  and  it  did  not 
appear  that  he  had  brought  with  him  even  an 
umbrella  or  a  camp-stool.  He  had  probably 
not  come  for  his  health,  for  he  seemed  in  good 
399 


400  THE  LANDSMAN'S  TALE 

physical  condition,  and  he  had  not  come  for 
the  usual  seaside  society,  for  it  was  not  the 
time  of  the  year  for  that.  All  the  summer 
boarders  had  gone  and  there  was  no  one 
left  in  the  little  village  but  the  regular  in- 
habitants thereof. 

The  water  was  now  too  cold  for  sea-bathing, 
and,  besides,  he  had  casually  mentioned  that  he 
did  not  care  for  that  sort  of  thing;  and,  what 
was  stranger  than  all,  he  had  not  come  there 
to  sail  upon  the  ocean.  Several  times  it  had 
been  proposed  to  him  that  he  should  go  out 
in  one  of  the  numerous  cat-boats  or  sloops 
which  were  idly  lying  at  anchor  in  the  little 
bay,  for,  in  the  middle  of  the  day,  the  weather 
was  just  as  good  for  a  sail  as  it  had  been  in 
August  or  September. 

But  only  once  did  the  stranger  heed  such 
suggestions,  and  then  he  hired  the  best  boat 
in  the  bay,  which  was  sailed  by  one  of  the  old- 
est skippers,  assisted  by  a  weather-beaten  mari- 
ner, and  it  may  be  therefore  supposed  that  it 
was  very  well  sailed ;  but  whether  the  stranger 
liked  the  little  excursion  or  not,  it  was  im- 
possible for  the  skipper  to  say.  He  had  ex- 
pressed no  opinion  on  the  subject,  either  while 
he  was  in  the  boat  or  after  he  landed,  but  as 


THE  LANDSMAN'S  TALE  401 

he  did  not  go  out  again  during  his  stay  in  the 
village,  it  was  generally  believed  that  he  had 
not  liked  it. 

It  might  have  been  supposed  that  he  came 
to  this  quiet  little  place  for  the  sake  of  living 
cheaply,  had  it  not  been  for  the  fact  that  he 
occupied  the  largest  and  most  expensive  room 
at  the  hotel;  that,  being  the  only  lodger  at  the 
inn,  he  ordered  the  best  living  that  the  land- 
lord could  procure  for  him,  and  at  dinner-time 
indulged  in  the  unusual  extravagance  of  a 
glass  or  two  of  wine. 

So  it  was  not  long  before  the  villagers  made 
up  their  minds  that  the  quiet  man  at  the  inn 
was  without  an  object.  As  he  cared  for  noth- 
ing which  they  or  their  village  could  offer 
him,  it  was  plain  enough  that  he  had  no  reason 
for  coming  there.  But  the. investigations  and 
consultations  of  the  villagers  had  a  positive  as 
well  as  a  negative  result.  They  proved,  with- 
out the  shadow  of  a  doubt,  that  this  person  was 
a  thorough  landsman.  He  did  not  seem  to 
care  for  the  ocean  or  anything  connected  with 
it;  and,  on  the  one  occasion  when  he  had  gone 
out  in  a  boat,  it  was  manifest  to  the  skipper 
and  to  the  mariner  who  was  with  him  that  this 
stranger  knew  nothing  whatever  about  naviga- 


402  THE  LANDSMAN'S  TALE 

tion,  about  boats,  about  sails,  about  sheets,  or 
even  about  a  tiller. 

He  did  not  seem  to  mind  the  motion  of  the 
waves,  but  it  was  remarked,  when  the  subject 
was  discussed  that  evening,  that  it  was  very 
probable  that  he  did  not  know  enough  about 
the  ocean  to  be  aware  that  people  unaccus- 
tomed to  it  were  made  to  feel  badly  when  the 
sea  was  rough,  and  on  that  day  it  had  been  a 
little  rough. 

The  stranger  now  occupied  a  peculiar  posi- 
tion in  the  village;  he  was  the  only  landsman 
therein.  All  the  men  in  the  place  were  nauti- 
cal, in  some  degree  or  other,  and  there  was 
not  one  of  them  over  thirty  years  of  age  who 
was  not  called  captain.  They  had  not  all 
commanded  a  vessel,  but  it  would  have  been 
considered  discourteous  in  that  region  to  cast 
upon  a  man  old  enough  to  be  a  captain  the 
imputation  that  he  had  not  attained  that  dis- 
tinction. Not  to  be  able  to  sail  a  boat  would 
have  been  considered  in  a  citizen  of  the  vil- 
lage a  condition  of  denser  ignorance  than  in- 
ability to  read. 

But,  of  course,  conditions  were  different  in 
the  case  of  a  thorough  landsman :  he  would  not 
know  anything  about  the  sea,  but  he  might 


THE  LANDSMAN'S  TALE  403 

know  something  about  the  land,  and  in  the 
inferior  sphere  in  which  he  moved  he  might 
hold  a  very  fair  position.  Consequently,  when 
it  was  agreed  that  the  man  at  the  inn  was  an 
out-and-out  landsman,  he  rose  in  the  esteem  of 
the  villagers.  To  be  sure,  he  did  not  know 
anything  about  the  sea,  but  then  he  did  not 
pretend  to  know  anything;  such  a  man  they 
had  never  seen  before. 

Many  men  had  come  down  there  in  the 
summer-time  who,  although  they  did  not 
know  the  difference  between  a  sliding  keel 
and  a  shuffle-board,  hitched  up  their  trousers, 
walked  with  a  rolling  gait,  wore  little  caps 
with  visors,  and  were  perfectly  willing  to  take 
the  helm  if  they  should  find  anyone  fool 
enough  to  let  them  do  it.  These  men  had  al- 
ways been  looked  upon  witn  the  contempt 
proper  to  their  pretensions;  but  here  was  a 
man  who  pretended  nothing:  a  good,  honest, 
square,  outright,  unvarnished  landsman.  As 
such  they  recognized  him,  and  as  such  they 
gave  him  a  position — not  a  very  high  one,  but 
one  they  believed  he  deserved. 

When  the  season  for  seaside  visitors  was 
over,  and  when  the  evenings  were  cold,  it  was 
the  custom  of  some  of  the  captains  of  the  vil- 


404  THE  LANDSMAN'S  TALE 

lage  to  gather,  after  supper,  in  the  large  room 
of  the  inn  and  to  sit  around  the  great  fireplace 
to  smoke  and  to  talk:  and  now  the  landsman 
often  found  it  pleasant  to  sit  there  and  listen 
to  them  as  he  smoked  his  cigar.  He  was  not 
much  of  a  talker,  but  he  was  a  very  good  lis- 
tener, and  for  this  the  captains  liked  him. 
It  often  happened  that  when  an  old  skipper 
told  a  tale  of  adventures  in  far-away  seas, 
and  told  it  ostensibly  to  the  assembled  com- 
pany, he  really  told  it  to  the  landsman,  and 
all  the  rest  knew  it,  and  the  more  evidently 
such  tales  were  directed  at  the  landsman  and 
the  better  they  were  adapted  to  his  want  of 
comprehension  of  nautical  subjects,  the  bet- 
ter they  were  liked  by  the  rest  of  the  assembled 
company. 

One  evening  there  was  a  public  meeting  in 
the  large  room  of  the  inn,  composed  not  only 
of  the  captains  of  the  place,  but  of  their 
wives,  their  daughters,  and  their  sisters.  This 
had  been  called  together  for  the  purpose  of 
considering  the  establishment  of  a  library  in 
the  village.  The  captains,  old  and  young,  as 
well  as  their  wives  and  daughters,  were  al- 
ways glad  to  have  something  to  read  during 
the  long  evenings  of  winter,  and  as  their  stock 


THE  LANDSMAN'S  TALE  405 

of  reading-matter  was  very  limited,  and  as 
they  had  heard  a  great  deal  about  village 
libraries  from  their  summer  visitors,  they  had 
now  determined  to  establish  a  little  library 
for  themselves.  So  this  meeting  was  called, 
and  it  was  hoped  that  it  might  result  in  en- 
couraging subscriptions. 

The  landlord  of  the  inn,  who  had  taken  part 
in  public  meetings  elsewhere,  was  called  upon 
to  preside,  and  the  exercises  consisted  in 
speeches  from  the  more  prominent  captains 
present.  These  speeches  were  all  of  the  same 
character,  they  had  the  same  object,  arid  they 
were  constructed  on  the  same  general  plan. 
They  recounted  the  speaker's  love  of  reading, 
which  always  began  in  his  boyhood;  they 
told  how  difficult  it  had  been  for  him  to  get 
access  to  books ;  and  how  he  had  always  longed 
for  first-class  A-No.  1,  copper-fastened  litera- 
ture; and  they  all  ended  with  remarks  on 
the  great  advantages  of  an  institution  which 
should  supply  reading-matter  to  nautical  peo- 
ple, and  of  the  peculiar  need  of  their  own  vil- 
lage for  such  an  institution. 

These  speeches,  most  of  them  autobiograph- 
ical to  an  extent  not  required  by  the  subject, 
were  listened  to  with  great  attention,  and  when 


406  THE  LANDSMAN'S  TALE 

every  captain  who  desired  to  speak  had  spoken, 
it  was  evident  that  the  audience  would  be 
pleased  with  a  continuation  of  the  interesting 
proceedings. 

With  this  idea  in  his  mind  the  landlord 
stood  up  and  glanced  toward  the  landsman. 
"  There  is  a  gentleman  present,"  he  said, 
"  who  is  not  a  seafaring  person  and  for  that 
reason  is  not  likely  to  feel  as  we  do  about  the 
needs  of  mariners  and  their  families  for  books, 
but  he  may  be  able  to  say  something  on  the 
subject  which  will  be  useful,  and  perhaps  he 
may  get  from  what  has  happened  to  him  in  his 
inland  life  a  point  or  two  which  may  come  in 
well  upon  an  occasion  like  this.  It  may  be 
that  some  of  us  mariners  have  got  into  the  way 
of  thinking  that  this  world  is  all  water — that 
is,  all  the  parts  that  are  good  for  much — but 
that  isn't  the  right  way  of  thinking:  there 
are  plenty  of  things  which  have  happened  on 
land  that  are  well  worth  hearing  about.  So,  if 
the  gentleman  would  not  mind,  I  am  sure  we 
would  all  be  very  glad  to  have  him  say  some- 
thing to  us,  something  which  may  come  in 
with  the  general  drift  of  the  public  feeling  in 
this  village  in  the  direction  of  a  library." 

All  eyes  were  now  directed  toward  the  lands- 
man, who,  without  hesitation,  rose  in  his  place. 


THE  LANDSMAN'S  TALE.  407 

"  Mr.  Chairman,"  said  he,  "  I  am  very  will- 
ing to  make  some  remarks  upon  this  occasion, 
but  I  should  prefer  not  to  divert  the  very  in- 
teresting and  instructive  current  in  which  the 
proceedings  of  this  evening  have  been  flow- 
ing. I  therefore  ask  that  you  will  allow  me  to 
tell  you,  instead  of  a  story  of  the  land,  which 
would  not  harmonize  with  the  tenor  of  the 
narrations  to  which  we  have  listened  with 
such  pleasure  this  evening,  a  story  of  the  sea." 

At  this  everybody  stared  in  surprise.  What 
could  this  landsman  know  about  the  sea?  Of 
course  he  might  have  heard  of  something 
which  happened  at  sea,  but  how  could  he  re- 
peat it?  That  would  be  as  if  one  of  their 
townsmen  should  overhear  a  couple  of  Welsh- 
men talking  in  their  native  tongue  and  should 
endeavor  to  give  the  points  of  their  conversa- 
tion. It  was  odd,  truly,  that  this  landsman 
should  want  to  tell  a  sea  story,  but  for  that 
very  reason  everybody  wanted  to  hear  it. 

"  It  was  some  time  ago,"  the  landsman  said, 
"  exactly  how  long  I  cannot  state,  that  a  good- 
sized  schooner  was  sailing  on  the  Pacific  Ocean. 
It  was  an  American  schooner,  and  was  manned 
by  a  crew  of  ten  thoroughbred  seamen,  a  cap- 
tain, and  a  boy.  I  don't  know  to  what  port 


408  THE  LANDSMAN'S  TALE 

this  schooner  was  bound,  but  I  think  it  very 
likely  she  was  going  to  the  Sandwich  Islands; 
nor  do  I  know  what  her  cargo  was,  but  that 
would  be  of  no  interest  to  us. 

"  Her  crew  were  all  respectable  mariners; 
on  such  a  vessel  a  foreigner  would  have  been 
decidedly  out  of  place.  These  men  cared  not 
only  for  their  bodies,  but  for  their  minds; 
they  would  not  have  been  satisfied  with  enough 
to  eat  and  to  drink,  good  clothes  to  wear,  and 
not  too  much  work  to  do;  they  must  have 
more  than  this,  they  must  have  food  for  the 
mind ;  they  must  have  reading  -  matter. 
Every  one  of  them,  including  the  captain  and 
the  boy,  was  fond  of  books. 

"  It  may  well  be  supposed  that  a  crew  with 
tastes  of  that  sort  would  not  start  out  of  port 
without  taking  along,  among  their  other  stores, 
a  store  of  books,  and  so  this  schooner  had  on 
board  a  library.  This  was  a  very  small  one, 
and  was  contained  in  a  portable  bookcase  not 
much  larger  than  a  soap-box;  but  the  books 
.were  all  in  small  type — for  a  sailor  who  has 
not  good  eyes  can't  be  much  of  a  sailor — and, 
as  it  takes  a  long  time  to  read  a  book  at  sea 
where  there  are  so  many  interruptions  in  the 
way  of  watches  and  storms  and  meals,  and 


THE  LANDSMAN'S  TALE  409 

going  to  the  masthead  to  look  out  for  whales 
and  sails,  the  contents  of  the  little  portable 
bookcase  had  never  failed  to  give  the  crew  all 
the  reading-matter  they  wanted,  no  matter 
how  long  a  voyage  might  be.  Even  if  a  rapid 
reader  had  got  through  with  the  whole  of  them 
before  the  schooner  reached  the  port  to  which 
she  was  bound,  he  would  have  been  very  will- 
ing to  begin  again  and  read  them  all  the 
second  time,  for  they  were  good  books.  Con- 
sequently great  care  was  taken  of  this  port- 
able library,  and  whenever  there  was  rough 
weather  the  doors  of  the  little  bookcase  were 
battened  down,  so  that  the  precious  volumes 
should  not  be  tumbled  out." 

At  this  some  of  the  captains  looked  at  each 
other;  it  was  all  right  to  batten  down  hatches 
when  there  was  a  storm,  but  nobody  ever  bat- 
tened down  the  doors  of  a  bookcase;  how- 
ever, this  person  was  a  landsman. 

"  They  had  been  sailing,"  the  speaker  con- 
tinued, "  for  some  weeks,  arid,  as  there  had 
been  many  calms,  the  men  had  had  unusual 
opportunities  for  reading,  and  all  of  them  had 
become  very  much  interested  in  the  books 
they  had  in  hand.  This  state  of  things  was 
pleasant,  although  not  profitable,  but  it  soon 


410  THE  LANDSMAN'S  TALE 

came  to  an  end,  for  one  morning  just  after 
breakfast  a  violent  wind  arose  and  soon  be- 
came so  strong  that  the  captain  was  quite  sure 
that  a  tornado  or  a  hurricane  would  soon  be 
upon  them.  He  gave  orders  to  take  in  all  the 
sails,  but  before  this  could  be  done  one  of  the 
small  ones  in  front  was  blown  entirely  away 
from  the  ropes  which  held  it,  and  went  whirl- 
ing out  to  sea,  far  in  advance  of  the  vessel. 

"  The  wind  came  from  the  south,  and,  there- 
fore, the  schooner  was  soon  scudding  along 
under  bare  poles  as  if  she  intended  to  dash 
through  the  water  to  the  region  of  the  polar 
bears,  and,  as  the  captain  had  expected,  this 
wind-storm  grew  into  a  hurricane,  and  the 
masts  of  the  schooner,  although  they  were 
good  ones,  could  not  stand  it.  First  the  top- 
mast of  the  foremast  went,  then  the  other  top- 
mast followed,  then  the  thicker  part  of  the 
masts  snapped  off  one  after  the  other,  just 
about  the  middle,  and  jerking  themselves  loose 
from  the  rope  ladders  and  all  the  cords  which 
held  them,  they  went  off  through  the  air  as 
if  they  had  been  birds,  and  none  of  them 
touched  water  until  they  had  gone  at  least  a 
mile  ahead. 

"  Now  the  booms,  which  held  the  two  large 


THE  LANDSMAN'S  TALE  411 

sails  wrapped  up  upon  them,  blew  away  from 
the  half-masts  on  which  they  swung,  and  went 
up  into  the  air,  and  the  violence  of  the  wind 
was  such  that  the  little  cords  which  held  the 
sails  to  the  booms  were  broken,  and  the  sails 
spread  out  like  great  kites,  and  higher  and 
higher  they  went  up  into  the  air,  until  they 
seemed  like  little  white  specks  against  the 
black  tempestuous  sky. 

"  Now  the  ends  of  the  masts  which  had  been 
left  standing  broke  off  with  a  great  crack  and 
disappeared  as  suddenly  as  if  each  one  of  them 
had  been  the  flame  of  a  candle  when  it  is 
blown  out,  and  after  them  the  bowsprit  was 
wrenched  from  its  fastenings  and  hurled  for- 
ward like  a  javelin  cast  into  the  wild  waste 
ahead." 

At  this  point  the  captains,  who  had  been 
listening  with  eager  interest,  looked  at  each 
other,  and  the  landsman  noticed  it. 

"  That  may  seem  somewhat  strange,"  he 
said,  "  but  this  wind  was  now  acquiring  the 
character  of  an  irregular  cyclone,  and  as  it 
passed  the  schooner  its  corkscrew-like  move- 
ments drew  out  the  bowsprit  as  if  it  had  been 
the  stopper  from  a  bottle.  And  now  the  small 
boats,  which  had  been  so  firmly  fastened  to 


412  THE  LANDSMAN'S  TALE 

the  irons  which  held  them  like  pots  suspended 
from  an  old-fashioned  crane  in  a  fireplace,  up- 
heaved themselves  and  blew  away,  and  when 
this  happened  the  heart  of  each  one  of  the 
crew,  including  the  captain  and  the  boy,  sank 
as  if  it  had  been  the  lead  on  a  line.  But  there 
was  no  need  for  such  mental  depression,  for 
those  sailors  soon  saw  that  they  would  have 
been  no  better  off  in  such  a  storm  as  that  with 
the  boats  than  without  them. 

"  There  were  two  of  these  boats,  a  long- 
boat and  a  shorter  one,  and  the  crew  gazed 
with  amazement  at  their  behavior.  The  boats 
were  in  front  of  them  not  very  far  away,  and 
for  a  time  did  not  seem  to  be  blown  along 
any  faster  than  the  schooner,  but  their  mo- 
tions were  wonderful.  First  the  long-boat  rose 
high  in  the  air,  then  it  turned  bow  down  and 
stern  up  and  plunged  into  the  ocean,  dipping 
up  a  boatful  of  water  and  rising  again  into 
the  air,  turned  completely  over,  upsetting  its 
whole  load  of  water  upon  the  other  boat  which 
was  just  beneath  it.  This  made  the  shorter 
boat  sink,  but  it  soon  came  up  some  distance 
ahead  and  flew  into  the  air,  followed  hard  by 
the  long-boat,  which  seemed  to  be  trying  to 
bump  it. 


THE  LANDSMAN'S  TALE  413 

"  The  two  rose  and  fell  together,  sometimes 
high,  sometimes  low,  the  long-boat  always  in 
pursuit  of  the  shorter  boat,  like  a  hawk  after  a 
pigeon,  until  at  last  they  came  together,  with 
their  hollow  parts  toward  each  other  like  the 
two  shells  of  a  clam.  The  shock  was  so  great 
that  they  burst  into  fragments  with  a  great 
noise,  as  if  they  had  exploded,  and  little  pieces 
of  them  scattered  themselves  over  the  sea  like 
hail.  To  think  of  their  fate  had  they  been 
in  those  boats  was  enough  to  make  that  crew 
shiver. 

"  Now  the  wind  grew  stronger  and  strong- 
er; it  was  a  real,  full-grown  tornado,  and 
every  man  of  the  crew,  including  the  captain 
and  the  boy,  was  obliged  to  lie  flat  upon  the 
deck  and  hold  on  to  some  ring  or  bar  to  keep 
himself  from  being  blown  away.  They  did 
this  none  too  soon,  for  in  a  few  minutes  the 
wind  began  to  blow  the  bulwarks  off  that 
schooner,  and  if  the  stern  rail  had  not  lifted 
itself  a  little  as  it  flew  over  the  schooner  and 
out  ahead,  it  would  have  wiped  every  man  off 
that  deck  as  neatly  as  you  would  peel  the  skin 
from  a  banana." 

The  captains  did  not  look  at  each  other  now, 
but  they  stared  steadfastly  at  the  landsman; 


414  THE  LANDSMAN'S  TALE 

even  their  wives,  their  daughters,  and  their  sis- 
ters were  impressed  with  the  intensity  of  the 
storm  that  was  being  described.  Their  nerves 
were  in  a  state  of  tension;  if  one  of  their 
hairpins  had  dropped,  it  would  have  startled 
them. 

"  On  went  that  schooner,"  continued  the 
landsman,  "  faster  and  faster,  before  that  aw- 
ful, howling,  shrieking  wind;  it  seemed  as  if 
the  waves  behind  were  yelling  to  the  waves 
in  front  to  turn  and  stop  the  flying  vessel  so 
that  they  might  leap  on  board.  The  captain, 
flat  on  his  face  on  the  deck,  kept  his  hand 
upon  the  helm,  and  so  steered  the  schooner  that 
she  sped  straight  forward  over  the  waves  and 
before  the  wind.  Now  the  whole  ocean  was 
boiling  under  the  hot  fury  of  the  tempest,  and 
great  waves  seemed  to  rise  perpendicularly  out 
of  the  depths,  and  one  of  these,  coming  up 
under  the  schooner,  lifted  her  stern  high  into 
the  air.  This  was  only  for  a  moment,  but  it 
was  an  eventful  one,  for  the  wild  blast  struck 
the  rudder,  now  exposed  to  its  fury,  and 
tore  it  from  the  stern  as  if  it  had  been  the 
stem  of  a  strawberry.  Over  the  sea  now 
skipped  that  rudder,  as  a  stone  from  the  hand 
of  a  boy  skims  and  jumps  over  the  smooth 
surface  of  a  mill-pond. 


THE  LANDSMAN'S  TALE  415 

"  Now,  of  course,  the  schooner  could  be  no 
longer  directed  or  controlled.  On  she  still 
went  before  the  maddened  gale,  but  not  as  be- 
fore, bows  in  front  and  stern  behind;  but 
sometimes  stern  foremost,  sometimes  whirling 
around  like  a  top,  sometimes  brushing  broad- 
side over  the  waves  as  if  she  were  trying  to 
smooth  them  down.  On,  on,  still  on  she 
plunged  and  dashed  and  spun,  until  the  men 
clinging  to  her  deck  were  sometimes  almost 
dizzy  with  the  motion,  but  still  the  heart  of 
the  captain  did  not  falter :  '  Hold  on,  my  men,' 
he  cried,  whenever  the  roaring  tempest  would 
allow  him  to  be  heard ;  '  we  have  yet  a  good 
hull  beneath  us  and  the  wind  may  fall.' 

"  But  now  a  terrible  thing  happened.  The 
schooner  was  down  in  the  trough  of  the  sea, 
and  as  she  rose,  a  fierce  blast,  blowing  close  to 
the  surface  of  the  water,  struck  her  broadside 
and  turned  her  over  upon  her  beam-ends:  so 
far  over,  indeed,  that  the  men  clung  to  the 
deck  as  if  they  had  been  hanging  against  the 
side  of  a  perpendicular  wall.  She  went  over 
still  farther,  and  everyone  felt  that  she  was 
going  to  capsize  entirely.  Just  at  this  mo- 
ment there  came  over  the  sea  the  wildest  and 
most  furious  blast  that  had  yet  blown,  and  in 


4:16  THE  LANDSMAN'S  TALE 

one  mad  whiff  it  blew  off  the  keel  of  that 
schooner." 

As  the  landsman  now  gazed  in  the  faces  of 
his  audience,  it  seemed  as  if  each  one  of  the 
captains  had  been  transformed  into  a  wooden 
image.  With  open  eyes,  with  close  closed  lips, 
and  without  a  sign  of  emotion  upon  their  rigid 
faces,  they  sat  and  listened.  In  the  eyes  of 
some  of  the  women  were  tears;  others  had 
their  mouths  open.  The  landsman  paused  for 
a  few  seconds,  and  then  continued : 

"  That  schooner  did  not  capsize.  As  soon 
as  her  keel  was  gone  she  righted  and  went 
plunging,  bounding,  whirling,  northward. 
But  the  wind  had  done  its  worst,  there  was 
nothing  about  that  vessel  which  could  be 
blown  away  except  the  crew,  and  they  stuck 
so  close  to  the  deck  that  the  wind  passed  over 
them  as  if  they  had  been  mere  knobs  or  pim- 
ples on  the  surface  of  the  vessel. 

"  Having  done  its  worst,  the  wind  did  really 
begin  to  fall,  and  the  storm  passed  away  al- 
most as  suddenly  as  it  had  risen,  and  before 
long  the  hull  of  the  schooner  was  rising  and 
falling  and  rolling  on  the  great  swells  which 
had  followed  the  tempest.  Now  the  crew 
could  sit  up  and  look  about  them,  but  there 


THE  LANDSMAN'S  TALE  417 

wasn't  much  to  look  at,  for  everything  of  wood 
or  iron  which  had  projected  from  the  hull  of 
that  schooner  had  been  blown  away. 

"  The  captain  folded  his  arms  and  consid- 
ered the  case.  It  was  a  hard  thing  for  him 
to  make  up  his  mind  to  desert  his  vessel.  Un- 
der ordinary  circumstances  he  would  have 
rigged  up  some  sort  of  a  rudder;  he  would 
have  made  some  sort  of  a  mast;  he  would 
have  hoisted  sails,  even  if  they  had  been  table- 
cloths and  sheets — he  would  have  endeavored 
to  make  his  way  to  the  nearest  port;  but  now 
it  was  of  no  use  for  him  to  try  to  do  any  of 
these  things.  You  all  know  as  well  as  he  did 
that  when  a  vessel  has  lost  her  keel  in  the 
ocean,  the  time  has  come  to  give  her  up. 

"  So  the  captain  addressed  his  crew :  '  My 
men,'  he  said,  '  we  must  leave  this  vessel ;  her 
keel  is  gone,  and  she  is  of  no  further  use. 
Down  below,  with  our  freight,  there  is  a  boat 
which  was  shipped  in  sections ;  it  is  a  hunting- 
boat,  which  can  be  taken  apart  and  carried 
over  the  land  when  necessary.  Of  course  this 
boat  does  not  belong  to  us,  but  under  the  cir- 
cumstances we  are  warranted  in  using  it.  We 
will  get  this  boat  on  deck  and  put  it  together ; 
there  are  oars  belonging  to  it,  and  in  it  we 


4-18  THE  LANDSMAN'S  TALE 

will  row  away  to  the  nearest  land.  Of  course 
I  don't  know  how  near  such  land  may  be,  and 
I  can't  take  any  observations  now;  but  by  dead 
reckoning,  and  I  have  been  doing  a  good  deal 
of  this  since  I  have  been  lying  here  on  the 
deck,  I  think  I  have  a  fair  idea  where  we  are. 
We  sailed  on  pretty  near  the  same  line  of 
latitude  from  the  time  I  took  my  observation 
yesterday  until  the  storm  struck  us  this  morn- 
ing, and  then  I  dead-reckoned  that  that  wind 
must  have  been  blowing  at  the  rate  of  sixty 
miles  an  hour,  and,  although  it  could  not  carry 
us  along  as  fast  as  that,  it  must  have  taken  us 
thirty-five  miles  an  hour,  and  so  in  the  five 
hours  in  which  it  blew  we  must  have  sailed 
northward  one  hundred  and  seventy-five  miles. 

"  Now,  according  to  the  chart  as  I  remem- 
ber it,  there  are  some  desert  islands  about 
forty-five  miles  to  the  northeast  of  us,  and  it 
will  not  be  difficult  for  us  to  row  to  them  in 
that  boat.  So,  my  men,  let  us  get  to  work 
and  launch  her. 

"  The  men  sprang  up  with  a  will,  and  in  a 
short  time  the  boat  was  hauled  up  on  deck, 
put  together,  and  lowered  to  the  water. 

"  The  crew  of  the  schooner  now  got  down 
into  the  boat,  and  as  they  did  so  it  seemed 


THE  LANDSMAN'S  TALE  419 

doubtful  to  the  captain  whether  or  not  the  lit- 
tle hunting  craft  would  hold  them  all;  but 
they  crowded  in  until  they  were  all  aboard  ex- 
cept the  captain,  who,  of  course,  would  be  the 
last  to  leave  his  ship.  They  were  packed  tight- 
ly together,  barely  leaving  room  for  the  oars- 
nien  to  move  their  arms,  but  there  was  still  a 
vacant  space  at  the  stern  which  had  been  left 
for  the  captain. 

"  But  this  good  man,  instead  of  descending, 
stood  on  the  edge  of  the  deck  and  looked  down 
into  the  boat. 

"  '  Hurry,  captain,'  said  the  first  mate, '  and 
come  down;  we  have  got  a  good  way  to  row 
and  we  ought  to  be  starting ;  there  is  room  for 
you  here.' 

"  '  I  see  that,'  said  the  captain,  '  and  I  have 
been  considering  that  vacant  space.  Hold  on 
a  few  moments;  I  will  be  with  you  directly.' 

"  Now  the  captain  hurried  down  into  the 
hold,  but  soon  reappeared  carrying  under 
each  arm  a  box.  These  he  placed  on  the  edge 
of  the  deck  and  stood  between  them. 

"  '  My  men,'  he  said,  addressing  the  crew, 
1 1  have  calculated  that  if  I  sit  with  my  knees 
drawn  up,  there  is  room  in  that  boat  for  one 
of  these  boxes,  and  as  that  is  all  the  additional 


420  THE  LANDSMAN'S  TALE 

load  which,  the  boat  can  carry,  it  will  not  be 
possible  to  put  both  boxes  into  her.  Now 
one  of  these  is  a  box  I  have  always  kept 
packed,  to  be  used  in  a  case  of  emergency  like 
this;  it  contains  condensed  food  of  various 
kinds,  sufficient  to  last  us  all  for  some  days. 
As  to  water,  I  don't  think  we  shall  suffer  for 
that,  for  I  see  it  is  going  to  rain.  The  other 
box  is  our  portable  library;  it  contains  our 
precious  books.  Now,  my  men,  we  can  take 
but  one  of  these  boxes,  and  I  leave  it  to  you 
to  decide  which  it  shall  be.  Please  come  to 
an  agreement,  among  yourselves  as  quickly  as 
possible,  and  I  will  lower  down  to  you  one 
of  the  boxes  and  then  get  in  myself.' 

"  The  men  in  the  boat  now  held  a  consulta- 
tion; it  was  an  earnest  one,  but  did  not  last 
long.  The  first  mate  rose  in  his  place  and 
spoke  for  the  others. 

"  '  Captain/  said  he,  '  we  have  made  up 
our  minds.  If  it  is  only  forty-five  miles  to 
the  nearest  land,  we  can  easily  row  that  far 
without  eating.  "When  we  reach  the  island, 
even  if  it  should  be  a  desert  one,  it  is  not  un- 
likely that  we  shall  find  some  sort  of  food, 
berries,  birds,  or  bread-fruit,  and  almost  cer- 
tainly some  fish  in  the  adjacent  water,  but 
there  is  no  reason  to  suppose  that  upon  such 


THE  LANDSMAN'S  TALE  421 

islands  we  shall  find  books.  Therefore,  we 
have  unanimously  agreed  that  we  will  take 
with  us  our  library.  There's  not  a  man  among 
us  who  is  not  interested  in  a  story  or  in  a  his- 
torical volume,  and  to  leave  our  books  behind 
would  be  a  wrench,  captain,  which  in  all  ,def- 
erence  to  your  opinion,  if  it  be  otherwise,  we 
truly  think  we  ought  not  to  be  obliged  to  give 
ourselves.' 

"  In  a  faltering  voice  the  captain  spoke : 
'  My  men,'  said  he,  t  you  have  chosen  wisely ; 
I  will  lower  the  library  to  the  boat.' 

"  When  this  had  been  done,  he  got  down 
himself  and  the  boat  pushed  off  from  the  hull 
of  the  schooner  and  rowed  away  to  the  north- 
east." 

The  speaker  ceased.  For  a  moment  there 
was  absolute  silence  in  the  room,  but  on  the 
face  of  every  captain  there  seemed  to  be  a 
shadow  which  grew  darker  and  darker  as  grows 
the  sky  before  a  storm. 

The  landsman,  who  appeared  to  be  pos- 
sessed of  a  certain  amount  of  weather  wisdom, 
advanced  toward  the  chairman  of  the  meet- 
ing. "  I  have  told  my  little  tale,"  said  he, 
"  and  now  allow  me  to  make  this  contribution 
to  your  library  fund,  and  to  bid  you  good- 
evening." 


422  THE  LANDSMAN'S  TALE 

Laying  a  bank-note  on  the  table  before  the 
presiding  officer,  he  bowed  and  withdrew. 
After  which,  without  any  motion  being  made 
to  that  effect,  the  meeting  adjourned. 

There  was  a  great  deal  of  talking  as  the 
people  went  home.  Some  of  the  captains  who 
were  in  the  habit  of  refraining  from  swearing 
in  the  presence  of  their  wives,  their  sisters,  and 
their  daughters,  now  swerved  from  their  usual 
custom. 

"  Do  you  suppose,"  said  Captain  Ephraim 
Smolley  to  Captain  Daniel  Yates,  "  that  that 
confounded  fool  came  here  for  nothing  else 
than  to  get  the  chance  to  spin  us  that  all-fired 
yarn? " 

"  Dunno,"  said  Captain  Daniel,  "  but  as 
there  wasn't  nuthin'  else  that  he  could  have 
come  for,  it  must  have  been  that." 

Miss  Amelia  Brindley,  a  young  woman  with 
a  high  color  and  a  quick  step,  who  was  to  be 
the  librarian  of  the  library  when  it  should  be 
founded,  said  to  her  mother  when  she  got 
home :  "  What  nettles  me  most,  is  not  think- 
ing of  the  story  he  told  to  us  to-night,  but 
thinking  of  the  story  he  is  going  to  tell  about 
us  when  he  goes  somewhere  else ;  they  say  he 
has  ordered  himself  driven  to  the  cars  early 
in  the  morning." 


Novels  and  Short  Stories 

BY 

FRANK  R.  STOCKTON 


CHARLES    SCRIBNER'S    SONS,    Publishers 


"  I  have  been  reading  him  now  a  good  many  years,  with 
an  increasing  pleasure  which  his  constant  public  seems  to 
share,  and  I  am  more  and  more  certain  that  our  literature 
does  not  know  a  more  original  or  originative  spirit.  I  doubt 
if  any  author  of  our  time  stamps  his  personality  so  distinctly 
on  his  work." — WILLIAM  DEAN  HOWELLS. 


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"  '  The  Girl  at  Cobhurst '  will  grow  upon  you  as  you  read,  and  that  is  a  good 
quality  in  any  book,  whether  novel  or  other  sort.  It  is  a  story  cast  in  the  whimsical 
and  quaint  fashion  of  plot  for  which  Stockton  has  become  so  justly  celebrated, 
and  which  in  its  essence  approaches  more  closely  to  genuine  humor  than  the  work 
of  any  other  American  writer  to-day." — Brooklyn  Eagle. 


A  STORY  TELLER'S   PACK 

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original  quality." — The  Outlook. 

"  Here  is  that  quizzical  vein  of  serious  humor,  that  droll  inventiveness  of 
incident,  and  that  adroit  suggestion  of  character  which  are  prominent  character- 
istics of  Mr.  Stockton's  books." — Philadelphia  Press. 


'ELS  A\D  SHOMT  STOMJJES 


f  Mr   SfK*t*m't  Xtrlei  m**t  it  tkert  *  mm  far 
r  M/  Ufttuif  t*4  falirkt  ** 


TWO  COMPANION  NOVELS  OF  ADt'EMT 


THE  ADVENTURES  OF  CAPTAIN  HORN 


hicb-watcr  mark  of 


ietm.ud  has 


»o  man  ll  i  i  m||M||  •iMIilitag  wriNrbtfare  Ac  prtftc  to-diy  than 
H«  vrtlM  to  MMM  Md  be 


MRS.  CLIFF'S  YACHT 

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.  nmo.  $I.$o. 


«»»•  wto  rMM«bOT  '  TW  Adv«M«fW  of  Captain  Horn.'  Mid  all  who  read  the 
H.  luv«rMMM  to  tbMk  Mr.  Pnnk  Stockton  that  he  has  not 


•  later*  W  Mr*.  OMTud  UM  tartan  •.umaaunt.  •  Mr*.  Cliffs  Yacht ' 
i  uof  tlM  MSM*.  a»d  the  wit  and  laaia>l  into  human  nature  which  the  first 
1  tlfcoafc  atow*.  make*  a  kMppy  cOMplaaMB*  to  the  stirring  ad  venture  which 
••••  iMI  part,  wtert  tte  Catc  of  tttt  Perwiaa  treasure  is  narrated." 

-Atlantic  Monthly. 


1  "•  -» *•  pK«Mar  vtetwa  of  tte  abort 


.  any  raceat  writer,  has  helped  to 
•tory.  HckufthownbowpotMole 
iracaad  to  make  the  turn  of  a  story 
.  It  may  be  said  in 
lea  reversal  at 


-.  b*>r«  him  a  wbimsey .or 
-  ofamusmu 


NOVELS  A\D  SHORT  STORIES  BY  FRANK  R.  STOCi 
NEW  UNIFORM   EDITION  OF  THE  FOLLOWING  VOLUMES] 

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TWO   COMPANION  NOVELS  OF  ADVENTURE 


THE   ADVENTURES   OF  CAPTAIN   HORN 

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POMONA'S   TRAVELS 


-1C 


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RUDDER  GRANGE 

With  over  100  illustrations  by  A.  B.  FROST,      ismo,  gilt  top,  $2.00. 

"  It  is  possible  that  there  are  readers  and  buyers  of  books  who  have  yet  to  make 
the  acquaintance  of  '  Rudder  Grange."  If  so,  it  is  hard  to  tell  whether  they  are 
objects  of  pity  or  envy — pity  for  having  lost  so  much  enjoyment,  or  envy  for  the 
pleasure  that  is  still  in  store  for  them." — Philadelphia  Times. 

"  Mr.  Frost's  suggestive  illustrations  add  greatly  to  the  attractiveness  of  Mr. 
Stockton's  famous  story.  He  has  caught  the  spirit  of  the  book,  and  sketched  its 
leading  characters  and  scenes  with  rare  humor." — London  Literary  World. 


%*  The  above  two 
books,  handsomely  bound 
in  uniform  style,  with 
special  cover  designs  by 
A.  B.  Frost,  gilt  top, 
Z2mo,  in  a  box,  $4.00, 


~>=*  RUDDER  GRANGE. 


CHARLES    SCRIBNER'S    SONS 

153-157  FIFTH  AVENUE,  NEW  YORK 


PS2927   .A25 


L  009  603  709  8 


UC  SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FACILITY 


AA    001  221  453    2 


